Lonely
by Blackpassion777
Summary: When V is stabbed and losing consciousness in the subway, an unexpected rival helps him. Now that Hotstreak knows friendship, will he change? How has time changed them? Hotstreak/Virgil
1. Negative Attraction

Static's foot bumped into an empty can and it skittered away into the looming darkness of the subway sending metallic clangs echoing down the abandoned tunnels. Static panted and cursed internally; someone would have heard that, and this was no time to be drawing attention to himself. Keeping one hand to the wall to guide himself through the darkness and another on his side, blood squished from between his fingers and soaked into his clothes in glittering black. Static grunted through his teeth and fell back into the wall. Sliding to the ground, Static let a small cry escape his lips when he fell to the ground. He still couldn't see anything farther than ten or twelve feet in the gloom and there wasn't any signal getting through on the shock box.

Distracted by his pain, he barely noticed when a laugh echoed from the darkness on his right. He grit his teeth and turned toward the sound as three punks in hoodies sauntered forward, blending from shapeless outlines into wicked, grinning ghosts. Static took his free hand and weakly clenched in into a fist, forcing power into his palm enough to cast light and send sparks dancing up his arm.

The man closest to him laughed, identifying him as the man who laughed before, "Well, what do we have here? If it isn't _Static Shock_." Static narrowed his eyes and bit back a gasp, "Stay away from me." It came out sounding more pitiful than he'd hoped and the man stepped closer until he was looming over him, "Why would I do that? Do you have any idea the _shit_ you've caused for me? Do you!" At his last words, he kicked toward Static's chest. Static used his remaining strength to roll out of the way and shoot lightning toward the man. He ducked and Virgil felt strong arms snake under his arms. His breath was coming in shaky gasps as they jerked him to his feet.

The man hissed, "I'm gonna make you pay, _Static_." As he spit his name he kicked him in his side where he'd been stabbed. Virgil screamed and the other gang members let him fall to his back. He stepped on his wound and blood welled around his shoe while Virgil let out a choked scream, and the man carried on wistfully leaning into Static's side, "So even mighty super heroes bleed…I wonder if they can die?"

He lifted his foot to slam it back down into his stomach, but a deep voice from behind him stopped him in his tracks, "I wouldn't do that if I were you." Static recognized it and looked behind his tormenter to see flame red hair and glowing golden eyes; Hotstreak. The man jumped and fell away from Static, back toward his two henchmen, "H-H-Hotstreak!"

"Yeah, now that you know who you're messin' with; scram! You guys make me sick." His eyes narrowed dangerously and his fists glowed with the promise of violence as the men scrambled back into the dark. Static's breath was coming fast and shallow as Francis kneeled next to him, his palm lit with fire to survey the damage, voice laced with it's usual edge but it bordering on concern, "You really got in it deep this time, didn't you?"

Static choked, "What do you want Hotstreak?" Francis raised an eyebrow and asked sarcastically, "Is now really the best time to be pickin' a fight?" As he finished his sentence he put his arm under his shoulders and propped him up, snaking his other arm under his knees and hauling himself to his feet with Static in his arms.

"What are you doing?" Static asked helplessly.

Francis shot back, "What do you think _hero_? Savin' yer stupid ass!"

Static tensed and groaned as a spike of pain shot through his side, and Hotstreak's pace quickened almost unnoticeably. Now that the stress and adrenaline of defending his life was wearing away, Virgil felt himself slip into unconsciousness.

Hotstreak took him back to his temporary place in the subway and set him down. Taking his shirt and jacket off, Francis could see that the damage was pretty bad. He'd seen stab wounds before, and it looked to him like he would have been okay if those thugs hadn't come along and made it worse. Francis focused and lit his fingers so there was no fire but they were hotter than a red hot iron. Hovering his hand over the wound he grumbled to him, "This is gonna hurt like hell, so hang tight." Pushing his hand to the wound, it made the sick sound of burning flesh and the smell was the same as Francis remembered. Virgil instinctively arched away from the pain and a desperate scream clawed its way out of his chest. Francis cringed and held him down while he finished cauterizing the wound.

After he finished with that, he did his best to clean up the blood and dress his wound. He was about to back away when his eyes lingered on Static's mask…should he? Hovering his hand over his mask, Francis thought about, watching warily, like Static would wake up and send a 6,000 volt of electricity through him at any second. A couple of minutes passed and Francis backed away feeling stupid. Why did he care anyways? But after ten minutes with nothing to do but stare at dirty subway tiles and feel curious, he found himself leaning over the other metahuman with a hand under his mask. Francis bit his lip and pulled it off, half expecting the world to end or something; unmasking superheroes just didn't happen.

Hotstreak mentally gasped as the person he saw beneath the mask; Virgil Hawkins. Hesitating to make sure he was right, Francis replaced the mask and sat down away from him. People always said he wasn't very smart, but now that he thought about it; Virgil as Static made so much sense. Ebon had almost caught him once before, but somehow Virgil had escaped. That was the closest he knew of anyone discovering his identity. Now that he knew, Hotstreak found himself intrigued by Static even more than before. He had always beaten him up in school, picked on him, harassed him, whatever you like, so why hadn't the other bang baby gotten revenge? There was no doubt that Static was stronger than him, no matter how much he wanted to deny it. He could have beat the tar outta him on multiple occasions, but he'd just let him go so the cops could take him.

Hotstreak thought on that until the other metahuman woke up. He never left in case Static woke up while he wasn't there, but he walked around and used subway cars as target practice to pass the time. The next day, Static groaned and put a hand to his head muttering, "Why do I feel like I've been hit by a truck?" Francis walked over and sat down on an overturned newspaper stand, "Who knows, maybe you were, in the shape you were in last night."

Static shot awake and automatically tried to sit up, "Woah, woah, calm down!" Francis held him down and added, "If you move too much you could open up your wound again."

Virgil considered that and relaxed, now that he was coherent and he was grasping the situation and not reacting out of habit, "Why would you help me?" Wincing a bit, Static put a hand on his side and took deep breaths while the pain from his recent movement quelled.

Hotstreak crossed his arms, "Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't have helped you if those assholes hadn't been there."

Static studied him and asked, "Why?"

"I may be an ass, but there's a line and you don't cross it." Pausing slightly he continued, "They crossed that line."

Static stared at him and accepted his answer, not sure how to carry on conversation with someone he'd never taken the time to talk to before, so he asked a neutral question, "What time is it?"

"4 something last time I looked." He glared at Virgil for a long time until he started to get uncomfortable, "Why don't you ever fight back?"

Virgil made a face, "Excuse me?"

"Why don't you ever fight back, you know, when those punks push you around?"

Virgil frowned and threw back sarcastically, "I do fight back, in case you didn't notice, what between stealing cars and causing mass panic."

Francis scowled deeper if that were possible, "I'm not talkin' about Static, I'm talkin' about Virgil."

Now Static was paying attention. He felt the icy numbness crawl up his arms when you realize you're in deep shit, "What did you say?"

Francis' temper momentarily flared and he jumped up, his hands tightening into fists at his sides, "So I looked under your mask, what of it?!"

Virgil stiffened and then said cautiously, "You know who I am." It wasn't really a question. He knew francis had a temper and he didn't want to get on his bad side when he could barely even sit up.

Francis drawled, "Yeah."

"What're you gonna do about it?"

Sitting back down, Francis crossed his arms again, "I don't care. What did you think I was gonna do?"

Static eyed him, "Well, you could tell Ebon and the rest of the metahumans and then I wouldn't even be safe in my own home anymore."

Francis shouted, "I ain't gonna tell that freak! He can find out for himself!"

His voice reverberated in the empty tunnel and an uncomfortable silence followed his outburst and Francis looked at the floor, "Oh. Well, thanks, I guess." Virgil went back to staring at the ceiling and he answered his question, "Why do you care what I do?"

"You're Static, and you just let those jerks in school push you around when you could beat those idiots to dust without even trying!"

"So I should be like you? I should just beat the crap out of anyone that even looks at me sideways or says something the way I don't like?"

Hotstreak glared and shouted, "Hey! It ain't like that!"

Virgil shrugged, "Whatever. I've never been much of a fighter before. If that changed all of a sudden, it would draw attention to myself and then the connection between myself and Static would be just that much easier to make. Plus, if I started getting in fights, my pops would totally freak."

Francis scowled, "Who cares about that! If I were you I never would've taken shit from those guys!"

Virgil looked over at Hotstreak as a hint of surprise hit him; it almost sounded like he cared. Virgil felt suddenly selfconscious as he cleared his throat, "Um, you got a cell phone or something?"

Hotstreak raised an eyebrow, "What for?"

"My pops and Richie are probably freaking out about now. I should let them know I'm okay."

"I ain't got anything like that."

Virgil snorted, "I'd think you would, with all the stuff you steal."

"Pshh, I just do that for the thrill, there's no thrill in having a phone with no one to call."

That spiked Virgil's interest but he let it slide, he wasn't about to set off one of Hotstreak's tantrums when he couldn't fight back.

"Say," Francis asked, "I don't really remember cause I was in it deep for setting the bleachers on fire, but weren't you not at school for a couple of months?"

Static stared blankly and then it hit him, "Oh! Yeah that. I went to this other prestigious school for like, geniuses or something for a while, but I left."

"Why?"

"Well, they weren't really my type for one thing, and for another, their principal wanted to capture me and experiment on me."

"Oh. That's sucks, I guess. So, you must be really smart then."

Virgil shrugged again and put his hands behind his head, "I don't feel smart; Richie's the smart one. I guess I can figure stuff out if I need to, but I dunno, I like being Static so much more."

"I'm not good at that academic stuff. Mom always said I was an idiot."

Virgil frowned, "Your mom said that?"

He hesitated, "Yeah, but it's not like I care, I haven't seen her in years."

Virgil wasn't really sure what to say, "Sorry man. You're not stupid though."

Hotstreak snorted, "Don't give me the 'you just need to apply yourself speech,' I hear it all the damn time."

Virgil said seriously, "That's not what I was gonna say. I fight you all the time and you're good because you're smart. It doesn't matter if you suck at math or science in real life if your smarts are somewhere else."

Francis squirmed and looked away, uncomfortable with where the conversation was heading and decided to turn the topic back towards Virgil, "Whatever happened to your girlfriend? I noticed that you two don't hang out anymore."

"How'd you notice that? Well, yeah, we broke up." When Francis stayed quiet Virgil kept going, "She doesn't know I'm Static, and it's better this way. I've already dragged her into my problems more than once. She doesn't deserve that."

"Yeah, Aquamaria and I were okay for a while, but I screwed that up big time. I always screw it up."

"Sorry man. At least she's happy now; she wanted to be human again."

Francis absently rubbed his neck, "Yeah I know."

Virgil looked back up at the ceiling and asked, "So how bad was it?"

Francis looked back at Virgil, "What?"

Pointing to the bandages Francis realized what he was talking about, "Oh, ahh, it was pretty bad, but I stopped the bleeding, so you should be alright to move around in another day or so."

"How do you know how to do this?"

"Hangin' around gangs all the time, you get around."

Virgil acknowledged that and watched Hotstreak stand up and walk to the edge of the platform and jump to the rails, "Don't move or nothin', I'll be back."

Virgil muttered, "Yeah sure."

The rest of the day and the next passed with too many instances of awkward silence and every time the conversation drifted toward Francis he would dodge any questions he asked with questions of his own. By the next afternoon Static was up and walking around, but he seemed to be in pain while he did.

Francis watched him sit down with a pained hiss, "Hey man, don't push it."

Static shot back with an irritated edge, "I'm fine."

He snorted sarcastically, "Sure you are." Looking him over he decided to ask, "Who got you anyways?"

"What? Who stabbed me?" Anger flashed through his eyes and he folded his hands between his knees while he hunched forward, "A nobody. I was distracted, and he took his chance."

An emotion crossed through Francis' eyes that Static couldn't identify and he asked, "It must've been one hell of a distraction. I find it hard to believe that some mugger got the best of you."

Anger laced his voice again, "Well, believe it." Now Hotstreak was interested even more than before. It was hard to get under Virgil's skin, but something had, and whatever had happened and almost cost him.

Before Hotstreak could push him, Virgil asked, "So what's it like being able to control fire?"

Francis folded his arms and leaned against the wall answered sarcastically, "Well, it's like being able to control fire." Virgil frowned and he said seriously, "I don't sweat or get hot anymore and I never need a sweatshirt."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah seriously."

Static grinned and laughed, "Man that is so cool! No pun intended. God knows how many times I didn't feel the heat on a hot summer's day. You've got like, your own personal climate control."

Hotstreak looked a little surprised, "It's not that cool." Static's grin didn't fade as Hotstreak asked, "How'd you first find out about your powers?"

"Funny story. I woke up to get ready and my covers attacked me. And when I walked into the bathroom the lights went on without me flippin' the switch and my dad's razor turned on when my hand got too close. Needless to say I wanted to test it out. I went to the junkyard and started throwing cars."

Francis actually looked a little sheepish, "I woke up in the hospital on fire and my first thought was to go destroy some stuff. I think you know what happened after that."

"I think all of Dakota knows what happened after that."

Virgil and Francis exchanged nondescript stories for a while and the next day, Francis woke up to see Virgil testing his powers. An electric shield circled around him and sparks shot up his arms. His eyes took on an electric purple and he pulled his power back in with a clam exhale. Talking to himself since he didn't know Francis was awake he commented to himself, "That felt good."

Francis asked, "What felt good?"

"Have you ever not used your powers for a really long time? It's like sitting for too long and having to stretch your muscles out after they get all stiff."

"Really? I wouldn't know. The only time I don't is when they have me on meds and when I'm sleeping."

Virgil moved to pick up his shirt and jacket, "If it's one thing I understand about you, it's the feeling you get when you let loose. Nothing like it in the world."

Francis crossed his arms while Static redressed himself, cringing at the dried blood, "You? Let loose?"

"Ha. Don't think I haven't. Have you ever sucked the energy out of a high voltage power line? That was a trip."

Static pulled out his disk and it opened into a circle before he dropped it. Before it hit the ground, he sent a surge through it that made it hover just over the ground and he hopped up.

Francis frowned, "Just so you know, this doesn't change anything!"

Static smiled, "I wouldn't have it any other way. Don't think I'll go easy on you next time you pull grand theft auto."

Francis yelled after him as he whizzed down the subway tunnel, "Don't even think about it!" Watching Static leave, Hotstreak felt an uncomfortable void in his chest. "Shit." Francis kicked a pipe and it flew into the opposite wall with a noisy clatter.

Static called Gear as soon as he was within signal, "Richie, are you there?"

Almost immediately he heard him shout into the other line, "Virgil! Holy Crap, where have you been!" The worry was barely concealed beneath his surprise.

"I'm okay Rich. Meet me at the gas Station and if it's possible, could you call my pops and let him know I'm okay?"

"Yeah man! I'll be there in like…15 minutes."

Virgil made it to the gas station and waited on the old sofa they had moved there last summer. It wasn't long before Gear bust in through the door in his Rocket skates out of breath.

He threw his arms apart and shouted breathlessly, "Oh my God, V! Is that blood?!"

Virgil stood up. But not without wincing and said slowly, "Calm down Richie. I'll tell you everything. Did you get in touch with my dad?"

Richie smacked himself in the helmet, "Oh! Yeah man, I let him know. He's glad you're okay; you were gone for a really long time. I was just downtown looking for you. Why didn't you call earlier?"

Virgil sighed and sat down, "Lemme start from the beginning. I followed the Joker into the old Subway station-"

Virg! You followed the Joker…ALONE?!"

"I'm not done yet Rich, save your concerns for the end." Richie frowned and crossed his arms but otherwise remained silent.

"As I was saying, I followed him and caught him trying to use the old tunnels to get underneath a building to set a bomb. I tried to call you for backup but there wasn't any signal down there, so before they could get away with it, I attacked them and drew their attention to me. I ended up getting in a one on one fight with Joker and that guy scares the shit outta me. I was so preoccupied with him that I completely missed Shiv.

"He stabbed me and Joker didn't see me as much of a threat anymore, so while he wasn't looking, I disarmed the electrical pulses that would set off the bomb. Before he could finish me off, I ran. Luckily I was faster than they were on foot and they gave up, which is lucky for me, cause I didn't make it very far; I lost too much blood and I couldn't keep my powers up long enough to fly.

"Some random punks decided to take advantage of the situation, but before they could cause any permanent damage, Hotstreak showed up and scared em off. After that he helped make sure I didn't bleed to death and helped me until I was strong enough to leave."

"I'm sorry Virg, did I hear that right? Hotstreak _helped_ you?"

Virgil looked tired, "Yeah, I know. I couldn't believe it either. But he wasn't so bad; he didn't try to take me out even once."

"Well, at least the guys got morals." Taking off his helmet he asked, "Why did you want to meet me here and not your place?"

Virgil made a face, "Look at me Rich. Do I really wanna walk into my house looking like this?"

Richie looked him over again and grimaced, "Yeah, You've got a point." He grabbed a long sleeve shirt and some pants he'd left at the base and jumped back onto the disk he used to fly, "Let's get back to my place."

Worried, Richie asked, "V, are you sure you're okay to do that?"

Virgil reassured him, "I made it this far, didn't I? Come on, I wanna get home."

Finishing pulling the shirt over his head, Virgil rang the doorbell and the door swung open a little more than 5 seconds later. Sharon's eyes went wide and she threw hers arms around him, "Virgil!" Stepping back with her hands on her hips she shouted with tears in her eyes, "Do you have any idea how worried I was! Where were you?!"

Stepping inside with Richie close behind him, Virgil looked past Sharon to his father, "Hey pops, Sharon, I'm really sorry I worried you. I was umm…" He put a hand in his hair and realized that he hadn't bothered to come up with a story...a good one anyway.

His father looked relieved and frustrated, "Son, why don't we sit down and you can tell us what's been going on."

Virgil shared a look with Richie and said, "Alright pops."

Sitting down away from his father and sister who was busy wiping away tears, somehow feeling a guilty responsibility for anything that happened to him, Virgil sighed and said to Robert, "I gotta tell Sharon pops."

He watched him carefully said back seriously, "If that's what you want Virgil."

"Tell me what?" Sharon almost whined from over-stress.

Virgil blew out a deep breath and leaned on his knees forcing the words out of his mouth, "Sharon, I'm Static."

A small hysterical laugh escaped her and she blurted, "No way, don't lie to me Virgil."

Virgil rubbed his eyes, fighting a growing headache, and held his hand out with electricity dancing around his arm and hand in small purple sparks, an electric halo forming around his hand as he closed his fist and shut off the flow of energy.

Sharon's eyes widened and she whispered, "Oh my god. You really are Static."

Virgil was tired and he didn't bother letting her take this in and jumped right to the meat of it, "I was running down the Joker and in the fight I got stabbed by Shiv. I got stuck in the subways, but I had help and couldn't make it back here until now."

Alarm crossed both their faces, and his father asked urgently, "Are you okay? We should get you to a hospital."

Virgil stood up with some effort and said, "Yeah Dad, I'm fine. I heal faster than a normal person, but I'm still tired. I have a headache and I'm starting to feel a little stiff, so I'm gonna go and take a nap if you don't mind." Walking over to the staircase Robert nodded and looked to Richie as Static vanished up the stairs, "Go with him and make sure he's alright."

Richie nodded and said, "Yes, sir." Following Virgil up to his room, he could hear Robert and Sharon talking quietly. She was going to have a lot of questions, and Richie was glad that he wasn't there to deal with it.

Watching Virgil flop down as gently as he could with a stab wound, Richie sat down at his desk and leaned on his knees, "So, you need anything V?"

Mumbling half asleep he answered, "Mmfine. Tired."

"Mind if I stick around for a while?"

"No." Richie watched his friend fall asleep with irrational concern. He knew if V was going to be having any problems, they already would have arisen, but he could help it as his mind recalled pages from a medical dictionary he had read a few months ago. It caused him unreasonable stress and panic, so while one part of his mind did that, he focused the other part on solving various math problems and another on mentally rereading the dictionary. It was tedious, but it made him feel better.

Even as he was thinking about all that, a thought crossed his mind. Now that Hotstreak had helped V, would anything between them change?

**so this was originally sort of a one shot that I felt like making, but I kinda like this stupid little story, I think I might ressurect this sucker C: Review and tell me when they get OOC : I HATE that and I'm trying really hard D: **


	2. Spark the Inferno

Static stood near the power plant, careful that no one was out and about or near the roof he was standing on. It never hurt to be cautious. Taking one last peek at the surrounding area, Static swerved the disc he rode over the fence and dropped to the other side. He wasn't really sure if this was called stealing, but since he'd been drained that night he'd been stabbed, he really needed to rejuvenate, and the little jolts he gained from small electronics just wasn't cutting it. He figured it was getting even for an emergency room not providing what he really needed; extra juice.

Stretching his hands out in front of him, Static drew himself into the circuit of the plant by drawing the electricity out towards him, unable to keep a wild grin off his face as the new power surged through his body, healing him and filling him with the power he had grown accustomed to.

Sparks skittered across the ground around him, melting the snow around his feet and making the air thick with ozone as he pulled away, laughing childishly at the flood of power swelling inside of him. Squeezing his hands tight Static felt his wound numb from the energy he had absorbed and jumped energetically onto the metal disk, bending over and keeping one hand on the disc to steady himself as he tore into the sky on a stream of barely controlled electricity.

Little did he know that he'd been watched. Hotstreak watched as Static rode away into the night, arms crossed across his chest, unaware of the cold, even from his perch on a nearby rooftop where the icy November wind would have driven needles into anyone else. He'd never seen Static charge up before; he knew he didn't need to. That made Hotstreak think, "Just how powerful is he if he can just continue to absorb electricity?" As far as he knew, Static didn't have a limit. Starting a small fireball in his hand, he watched the fire lap lazily at his wrist, flickering into sparks in the wind. He let out a bark of crude laughter; it was funny how similar their personalities were to their powers.

Francis and his literally hot temper, and Static and his unpredictability and fierce power. He'd never though of Static as strong when they were in school, but now that he thought about it, the kid hadn't ever been that strong but he had a strong will to not back down like the others and not let it wear him down. Hotstreak sulked at the buildings around him,_ since when did he get so damn poetic? _

Ever since he'd saved Static, feelings he thought he'd buried away years ago were being ripped to the surface. Feelings he thought he wasn't capable of anymore. They hurt and he was beginning to prefer when he didn't feel anything at all.

Jumping over the edge, Hotstreak cushioned his landing with fire, melting the snow into a small fog as he shoved his hands in his pockets, scowl apparent on his face as he stalked back to the street. Time to burn his feelings away...

* * *

Static heard Richie come over the Shock Vox, "Static! Holy shit, get down to Midway NOW!"

Responding with urgency in his voice, "Richie are you okay? What's going on?"

"Hotstreak's flipped, he's gone completely nuts!"

Static set his jaw and streaked towards his partner, whispering under his breath, "Hang on Rich." He knew how bad Hotstreak could get when he was angry; Richie was no match for him. Hotstreak could melt any and all of his friends gadgets that he threw at him and unless he dunked him in the ocean or knocked him out there was no stopping him. He seriously doubted that they would get close enough to knock him out if he was as pissed off as Richie thought he was.

Virgil hovered over the scene below him and and grit his teeth. Hotstreak wasn't laughing maniacally like he usually did when he wiped out a few newsstands; he actually looked serious. Fire nearly ignited the air around him, turning nearby snow into steam, crossing directly from a solid to a gas.

Several cars were either melted or melting as he screamed, lighting another fireball in his hands, "Don't talk to me like you know me!" Richie stopped trying to talk as he dodged probably one of many fireballs that was hurled at him. Virgil dropped to the ground in front of him, his disk spinning closed as he put it in his jacket. The last time he'd seen Hotstreak this violent was the second big bang when he'd nearly fused himself with Ebon.

Without taking his eyes from Hotstreak, Static called back, "Stay out of this Richie."

Richie was about to argue until Virgil flashed him a warning, "Yeah, whatever you say V."

Backing up so he wasn't necessarily safe, but he wasn't in the line of fire so he could jump in to help Virgil, Richie coasted back. At this distance he wasn't able to make out what they were saying, and even though he could have used backpack to listen in, he felt like that would be an invasion of privacy, from the look Virgil had given him.

Static stood his ground, eyes narrowed, as Hotstreak threw a fireball at him, a snarl deeply etched onto his face. Static threw up a shield and the fire scattered uselessly around him as he asked, "What happened? Why are you doing this?"

Hotstreak stayed in his fighters crouch, eyes burning in flame, his voice dangerously low, "Shut up Static. You're the cause of all this."

Virgil kept his voice steady and his hands at his sides, "What did I do?"

Hotstreak's voice bordered on panic now as he held a hand at his chest, "This! This Virgil! You made me remember what it was like!"

Virgil tried to keep his confusion hidden as he asked gently, "Francis, you're not making any sense. Remember what what was like?"

Hotstreak screamed threw his teeth in frustration, flames engulfing him completely before he calmed them and they went out completely. He just seemed tired now as he finished, "What it was like to be accepted...for people to care."

Virgil was taken off guard and he opened his mouth to talk before he noticed the police showing up all around them. Narrowing his eyes in frustration Virgil let some sparks loose in a wave of anger and asked calmly, "How about we continue our discussion elsewhere."

Hotstreak followed Static's gaze to the growing number of cops and his flames started up again as he ground out, "Fucking cops."

Static said more demandingly, "Hotstreak. They're not important right now; I'm not done talking with you yet." Francis whipped around, staring intently at Static. The seconds crawled by as he decided weather or not he wanted to talk, or fight. He clenched his fists tighter and answered, "Fine. But your sidekick stays here."

Using the fire that came naturally to him, Hotstreak propelled himself to a rooftop and sprinted away, certain the lightning hero could catch up. Pulling out the disk, Virgil electrified it and stepped on. Looking back to Richie he gestured for his friend to join him, "Richie, I hate to do this to you man, but can you come up with an explanation for all this to the cops. I gotta talk to Hotstreak."

Richie was taken aback, "He wants to talk again? Why?"

Static's shoulders slumped in a sigh, "It's important Rich, and he wants to talk to me alone." Seeing the concern on his friends face Static smiled and forced a laugh, "Chill out Richie, I'll be fine!"

Richie knew he would, bur that didn't stop his frustration at not being able to help. He tried to smile back, "Alright, but watch your back V."

Already racing after Hotstreak he yelled over his shoulder, "Will do!"

Following half flaming footsteps was more than Virgil could ask for. Jumping to the building roof, Static landed in a crouch a few feet from the delinquent, calm, but prepared if Hotstreak wanted to start anther fight.

Hotstreak looked like he usually did as he sat relaxed on the building edge. He glared at Virgil, willing him to talk first and break the silence between them. Static felt himself more at ease under his unnerving gaze than he thought he'd be, "So are you going to clarify just what the hell that was all about?"

Hotstreak glared for a few more seconds before he looked away and started talking, "Don't think that this is some fucking counseling session just cause I'm talkin to ya!" He folded his hands together and started nervously, "My parents were a couple of high class bastards. They cut me off after I got into high school; said I was an embarrassment. After that happened I got deeper and deeper into gangs and all that shit. If I hadn't gotten powers I'd probably be dead by now. I guess...I dunno, I just stopped caring about everything after a while. After I really started to talking to you, I just remembered what it was like to have friends.."

"You got friends don't you?"

He sent Static a steely glare and Virgil huffed and said, "You know, once you keep the property damage to a minimum you're not that bad of a guy, you know that?"

Hotstreak snorted, "Whatever Virgil." He stood up and asked, "Now what? You gonna arrest me for property damage blah blah blah." He waved his hand in the air and set it on his hip, scratching his head and staring pointedly at the sidewalk.

Virgil surprised him again when he laughed and said, "They don't have to know that I caught up to you," jumping onto the disc, hovering above the roof.

Hotstreak dramatically raised a fist at him, "Hey, I don't accept charity!"

Virgil chuckled and started away, "And I don't turn people in for throwing tantrums!"

Hotstreak shouted in frustration as the hero faded away, "Hey!" But as he stood alone on the building, he felt some of the emptiness inside of him crumble away. He didn't know if it was because he finally talked, or if it was the person he'd spoken to. Not noticing as the corner of his mouth turned up at the side, he felt more relaxed than he had in ages. Maybe Static wasn't as bad as he thought he was; he'd always felt better after a riling match with the hero. Even if it landed him behind bars for a while it was worth it. Maybe this was worth it too...whatever _this_ was.

**Okay, so far, this could go one of two ways. All in favor of Slash, say I. All in favor of friendship, speak now or forever hold your peace. Also, I updated chapter one, but didn't actually check through this one, which a great deal shorter...sorry D:**


	3. Moment of Weakness

**I took your guys' input and the vast majority of you prefer slash, so I'm going with that. Sorry friendfic peoples D: Maybe when I get this out of my system, I'll be able to write some friendliness X3 Thanks so much for your reviews guys! If it wasn't for your encouragement I might have abandoned this C: Thank you!**

Chapter 3

Static conducted a small stream of electricity between his fingers while he huffed out a sigh, "See Richie? Nothing to worry about."

Richie traced a small streak of fresh skin across Virgil's side before readjusting his glasses and straightening, "Yup, you're right, everything looks fine. You heal remarkably fast V, that's all I can say."

Virgil repositioned his shirt and snorted, "Can you imagine if I didn't?" He'd had to start wearing baggier clothes after he realized the effect his constant crime-fighting was having. If people started to notice how athletic he was getting there were going to be questions, and the more questions and suspicions there were the closer they got to finding out who Static really was. It wasn't like he acted any different when he was the super hero, he just played the nerdy-weak act like superman and hoped it worked.

Richie cut to the chase, "So? How'd Sharon handle it?"

The metahuman gave a short sarcastic laugh, "So get this; She starts trying to tell me how to do my job and getting all over-protective!"

Draping himself over the back of Static's chair he added, "I'm sure she's just worried, V"

Sighing again Static looked out the window, "Yeah man, I know that...it's just, everything would have been better if they had never found out. Even before my dad knew what I'd been up to I could see how much of a strain this was putting on him. I feel so guilty making them worry like that, even though I know this is what I gotta do."

Richie listened to his friend in sympathy; his family had yet to figure out what he did, but he'd calculated that if he kept up as he was now the odds of them discovering his heroic escapades were about a 5% likelihood. It wasn't like his parents would care much even if they did find out. "I know Virg." Setting some pause between his sentences he asked, "Patrol?" as he looked at the alarm clock by his bed.

Static swung to his feet and walked over to his closet in agreement, "Patrol."

* * *

Static landed on top a building in the old "historic district" or so it was called, even if half the buildings were nearly collapsing on each other. Ditching his outer coat on the railing he sat down and relaxed enough that he was comfortable but not enough that he could be easily sneaked up on; he didn't take chances like that while he was dressed as Static anymore.

Pulling on his neck, he stretched a tight muscle and shivered at at a cold gust of wind that prickled his sweat coated skin. He started when he heard a familiar voice ring out from behind him, but relaxed a bit when he remembered that his back was to the edge of an open building. Turning around and leaning over the side, Static matched the voice to Hotstreak in an eroding and deserted courtyard below.

He was about to announce his presence, but he stopped abruptly when he heard the mention of his name. Freezing in mid-lunge, Static lowered himself so he would be so easily seen and listened.

The dead winter chill helped the sound carry to his hears across the concrete, "Whatever F-stop, we know you helped the hero wannabe." Three guys were in Hotstreaks face and while one of them held a crowbar, he didn't hold it in a way that meant to intimidate; Static figured he probably had it in self-defense. Hotstreak's temper proceeded him.

"Static's mine! I'll be damned if I let some half-assed cowards finish him off!" Fire flickered around the skin of his knuckles, casting an orange glow over the surrounding objects in place of the shattered light post. Static felt a twist in his stomach at the brutal honesty of that statement, trying his hardest to focus on the conversation and not let his mind drift to past events.

"Those cowards were part of Neon. They told him what you did, and he told us to tell you that if he ever sees you around his territory again him and his boys will make sure you end up how Static should be by now. With the metahuman backup on their side even you would be hard-pressed to make it out of that alive."

Static could only imagine the hatred glowing in his eyes at that, but Static was surprised when he didn't attack and instead answered in a chillingly steady voice, "Tell im' if that's the way he does things then he disgusts me; I won't step foot near that place again if only to avoid his stupid ass." Before the three could speak again, Hotstreak turned and walked directly towards the building Static had been eavesdropping on.

Static's heart leapt in panic and he slid the the ground, hidden by the wall of brick fencing in the roof. He wasn't quite sure why he was so desperate to stay hidden, but his eyes widened and he gulped when Francis swung over the wall opposite him and folded his arms. His constant scowl was carved into his features as he glared back and toned menacingly, "Eavesdropping isn't polite you know."

Jumping to his feet Static swung his arms out in defense, "Hey! I didn't know you were gonna be here, so coincidence isn't the same as eavesdropping!"

To his surprised Hotstreak just raised an eyebrow at his quick defense and snorted, "No need to shout." He was even more confused when he sat down and didn't bother to fight.

Static stared dumbly and asked, "You're not gonna fight me?"

The hot-tempered punk just stared, glare melting away with a shrug, "Nah, don't really feel like it."

Static gained courage at the calm attitude Hotstreak had fallen into and jabbed, "Hotstreak doesn't wanna fight? And maybe tomorrow I'll decide to wear pink."

Hotstreak lunged in his direction, "Just cause I feel like bein' nice don't mean you haveta act like I can't do it!"

Throwing his hands up in surrender Virgil stopped him, "Okay okay! My bad. If you don't feel like fighting then what're you here for."

A strange expression briefly flitted across his face before he answered, "Shuddup, maybe I just felt like talkin'"

This piqued Static's curiosity for the second time; Hotstreak was purposefully going out of his way to talk to him and he couldn't figure out why, but old habits stick and Static felt the sarcasm slip out before he could think about it, "If you want me to shut up I can't talk."

Flames flared around Hotstreak in a small solar flare before threatening, "If you're not going to take me seriously-"

Static actually sighed and sat down again, "Sorry. Bad habit."

Francis nostalgically commented, "Stupid mouth always has gotten you into more trouble than it's worth."

"Hey! What would you know."

Hotstreak snorted, "Why do you think you were getting wailed on all the time. I guess it's just built into you to just piss people off."

Static deadpanned, "I take offense to that."

Hotstreak let out a bark of laughter and after a comfortable pause, his tone turned serious, "Yer not the scrawny weakling I used to wail on anymore, you've gotten pretty athletic...for a nerd."

Static flashed a cocky grin, "I think I just heard a a compliment."

The always present anger in Hotstreak's voice lashed out, "Don't think too much of it." Looking Static up and down he asked, "Now that I know yer Virgil it's not that hard to see the comparison. It's hard to believe no one else figured it out."

Statics eyes grew dark, "Ebon almost did."

"Ebon's a freak."

Static folded his hands and looked up from under his mask, "I know. Imagine the damage he could do with that kind of information." Hotstreak looked over the brooding hero more carefully and realized the taunting, bright exterior was mostly a front. The Static he was looking at right now was the Static that had briefly dropped the barriers in a rare moment of weakness. Hotstreak shivered when he realized how much he reminded him of himself.

The barriers came back up when Static dropped back to Earth, remembering that he wasn't alone and grinned up at Hotstreak, all traces of sadness gone, "I should get going before Richie worries. I swear that kid worries over everything."

Jumping on to his disk Static took a risk and asked as noncommittally as possible, "You ever want to catch me, I'm usually hangin' by the junkyard for target practice." Before he could hear an answer Static was gone, leaving Hotstreak with no reason to give an immediate answer and he was grateful for that. Otherwise he wasn't sure what he would have said.

* * *

Hotstreak tossed in his sleep, had he normal reactions to an increase in exertion and temperature, he would have been covered in sweat. Jerking away he instinctively lashed out with fire, a bright orange glow flickering around the walls of the abandoned subway tunnel. He panted and recovered quickly, cursing his inability to keep the nightmares at bay. Scowling at a crumpled newspaper by his feet, Hotstreak stood and flexed his hands, letting them glow with flames. Nightmares pissed him off. There was nothin' he could do to fight back in a dream.

Antsy and too irritated to fall back asleep, Hotstreak decided to take a walk. Clenching and unclenching his fingers in anticipation of a fight, he decided he would do just that. What better way to blow off steam than to go and pick a fight. Scowling, he stormed straight for the nearest shady spot he knew of. He didn't give a shit who he was about to go piss off, so long as he got to bash some skulls.

His mouth splitting into a feral grin when he spotted some punks sporting hoodies leaning in the back alley of a club. He wasn't sure how late it was, but the music still pounded through the brick in a steady, deep thrum. Shouting at the small group, "Hey dumbshits! I feel like starting some real _shit_! Who's ready to dance!"

They might not have recognized him or just not cared enough to argue since Hotstreak was clearly about to kick ass, but all of them seemed ready to defend themselves as they each slid into a defensive crouch. Not bothering with his fire powers, Hotstreak wanted to feel his bones cracking against their ribs. Dodging a switchblade, before the amateur could stumble past him, he brought a strong fist into his diaphragm, letting the punk slide winded to the ground. He left him and moved to the next one, laughing ecstatically when his fist connected with a bone cracking crunch in the remaining druggie's ribs.

He left them moaning on the ground, positive that the next person who came out for a smoke would see them and keep them from rotting in an alley. Reveling at the sting in his knuckles, Hotstreak felt his adrenaline high ebb and couldn't decide if he should continue to thrill seek, or sleep...he quickly dismissed sleep and decided to gain altitude.

He hopped from rooftop to rooftop before he heard a familiar screech; Talon. If one of the metahumans was on a rampage, Static wouldn't be too far behind them to stop them. Curiously, Hotstreak decided to watch rather than participate. Why he decided this, he couldn't remember later.

Standing calmly and watching Talon try to make off with some money bags of some sort. He stifled a grin when Static came up behind her and shot an electric blast at her back. She screeched and faltered in the air before recovering with a hiss and opening her mouth for a screech.

Static stopped short and concentrated, a force field of energy crackling around him and protecting him from the majority of her screech, but he did grimace, snarling at the grating sound. Hotstreak tightened his fingers in anxiety, grinning a ferocious smile as he watched the hero hit her with another energy blast as she recovered from her extended attack. Catching both her and the money before they fell to the concrete.

He set them down, and once he was certain she was unconscious, jumped back onto his disk and rose back up to rooftop level. Hotstreak felt a little impressed at the metahuman's ability. He and Static were two of three metahuman's he knew with unlimited potential. Hotstreak drew his power from the sun, Static from the Earth, and Ebon from the darkness. None of the other metahuman's even came close to them in a sparring match and they knew it. The only reason Hotstreak ever let Ebon take charge was because he didn't care what he was doing, as long as he got the thrill of a good fight.

Watching the electromagnetic hero speed away, Hotstreak wondered what it was about the hero that caught his attention. He couldn't deny that he had a nice body. He was powerful as fuck, and even though he'd never say it to his face, he could be pretty funny, even if his jokes were at his expense. Well, despite all those things, why Static was so important to him was a mystery.

Hotstreak watched the hero's sparking trail disappear with a hint of nostalgia and felt the urge to sigh. Since when did he get all emotional and shit! This wasn't how these things usually went; he woke up, he kicked ass, he felt awesome. Now he was just feeling depressed again and...lonely? Hotstreak hissed and turned his back to the street and felt his nails digging painfully into his palm. There was no way that he was getting lonely! He'd been alone the majority of his life, and he could stand to be alone a while longer.

It wasn't that he hadn't tried to make friends he just wasn't...good at it. When he first heard that Aquamaria wanted to turn human again, he'd taken it as a sign that she didn't want to be with him anymore. But now that he thought about it, how could he blame her? He was an abrasive, violent asshole. He couldn't handle the thought of her leaving, and so he'd tried to keep her as a metahuman, which in hindsight was a really stupid, selfish thing to do.

But that was it wasn't it? He was inherently selfish. If he saw something he liked, he wanted it, and he had usually gotten it through some method of...persuasion. It didn't matter to him if that persuasion was violent. Thinking back at the lightning metahuman, Hotstreak felt the same tug in his chest when he'd discovered something he'd wanted...NO, he did NOT want Static. Like, maybe he wanted someone to talk to or something...that must be it.

It wasn't like they had so little in common. He'd seen Static's bad side, and it was fucking scary. It'd be a cold day in hell that he would admit it out loud. The glimpses of pain he saw in the hero's eyes just made him curious. He was under the impression that his life was all hunkey dorey. But the hard glint in his eyes he recognized as someone who knew death.

Dammit! Hotstreak resisted the urge to chew his lip and wondered how he could get Static's attention without thoroughly pissing him off and landing himself in jail. He wasn't gonna lie, he was feeling like he needed some semblance of attention, and all be damned, he was going to get it! Besides, it had been awhile since he'd pulled grand theft auto.

**Review guys! I LOVE to hear from you! I makes me feel like maybe I'm doing something right lol If something ever seems exceptionally, hmm off? Tell me what I'm doing wrong so I can be of more entertainment to you XD Also, throw me suggestions! I love those too C: I also like writing little faces X3**


	4. Haggard Guardian

** Chapter 4**

Hotstreaks mouth was curved up into a adrenaline induced grin. The dealership had all but asked to be stolen from, what with the shit security and the wide-windowed display room. All he'd had to do was melt a few alarm trips and he'd just strolled in. He jumped into the open air corvette and hot wired the damn thing before laughing and slamming on the gas, but not before holding down the break and letting the tires squeal and gain speed.

He let the breaks go and the car lurched through the glass, broken shards tickling his skin and it crashed down on to the pavement with a flurry of sparks.

Spinning it out on to the road, Hotstreak watched the car's gauge go from 44 to 60 to 75 mph with a wild smile plastered on his face.

He frowned when the car stopped moving abruptly but the wheels kept spinning faster, nearly sending his face flying into the steering wheel. Turning in his chair, Hotstreak knew exactly where to look. Static was picking the car up into the air to keep it from gaining any friction on the road, face showing no sins that it was overly exerting. Hotstreak let go of the gas and jumped on the back of the seat and headrest yelling, "That's what I'm talkin about!"

Static yelled back, "I was wondering when you'd decide to pull grand theft auto again!"

Grinning like a maniac, Hotstreak jumped from the levitating car to the ground and retorted as the hero set the passive car back on the road, "See! That's what I was thinkin'!"

Static snorted, "Geez, you plan it all out?"

Hotstreak grinned again as his shoulders and upper arms caught fire, "I was gettin' bored, what can I say!"

Lighting up his palm, he sent a wave of flames towards Static. Static deflected it easily, unable to hide a cocky grin, "You're not the only one whose powers got upgraded Hotstreak!"

Jumping down from his disk, Static let waves of electricity spark over the ground and charge in his palms. Hotstreak let the flames gather in his hands as he send another folly of fire balls at Static. These were deflected as well. Static's electromagnetic barrier was strong enough for at least that.

Static looked surprised when the pyrokinetic rogue put out his flames and laughed, "Bring it Static!"

The hero understood well enough what he wanted, and for one of the first times in his life, he lunged into a down and dirty slugging match without his powers. Francis dodged Static's initial right hook and well directly into a reckless punch to his side. Static blocked it and danced back.

Overall, Hotstreak was surprised at how well the hero could dodge and block. He didn't know when to take chances to hit him or how to make opportunities, but damn the kid could take a hit. He realized with a flicker of guilt that that might have been due to him. There were several times that Static could have hit him back, but he missed it, or would draw back too soon to protect himself.

Hotstreak smiled when Static dropped his guard when he tripped backwards. Flinging himself forward, Hotstreak threw himself at his middle and pushed him back onto his back. Static grunted as the air was knocked out of him after being pinned to his back between concrete and Hotstreak. Said metahuman laughed, "Ha! I win!"

Static wasn't sure exactly what the metahuman wanted now that he was at his mercy, so he hid that insecurity under loud words, "Shuddup, I lost my footing, that's all!"

Francis laughed and pushed off of him to Static's surprise, "Who ever said I play fair?" Static's eyes widened when the flame powered metahuman offered him a hand up. He took it, albeit warily, as Hotstreak pulled him to his feet.

Static wondered out loud, "Not finishing me off? That's kinda weird."

Hotstreak waved a hand and crossed his arms tight to his chest, "I told ya! I was bored!"

Static sighed and rubbed some blood off his mouth with the back of his sleeve, "Did you have to steal a car to get my attention?"

"Yeah- uh wait, who said I wanted your attention!"

Static laughed, flexing his knuckles, "Like anyone else would try to stop you"

Hotstreak's eyes widened a bit and he recovered, "Just wanted to know how well you'd do in a fist fight. All we ever do is throw our powers around."

Static spit blood out on the ground, "You punch like a truck by the way."

Hotstreak took it as a compliment, "Never seen nobody who can take a punch like you though. Damn fast too"

Static Grinned, teeth wet with blood, "Com on Hotstreak, I've been hit with buildings, cars, dumpster bins, really think a bit of punching's gonna put me out?"

Arms still folded Hotstreak replied, "You should fight back more. You don't take initiative enough."

Static was surprised again, "Are you giving me advice?"

Hotstreak huffed, "What?"

Static's astonishment melted into a small grin as he shrugged, "Nothing." Stretching his arm Static grumbled, "I'll be damned if that doesn't feel sore tomorrow."

Throwing his disk to the ground, Static stepped up to it and squatted, arms resting on his knees, so he floated at eye level with Hotstreak, "I got class in less than half an hour, and I know you're not banned from the premises anymore. You should go."

---

Hotstreaks temper flared again and he yelled, "I don't need you tellin' me what to do!"

"Not telling Hotstreak, suggesting." Virgil smirked.

Hotstreak looked like he might have wanted to get angry, but didn't know how to retaliate so he asked instead, "And how am I supposed to treat you if I do go back?" Now that Hotstreak knew Virgil was Static, he would feel terrible trying to continue like usual and beat up the younger teen while also knowing that he wasn't doing anything to protect himself even though he _could_. Hotstreak found this idea rather unsettling.

Francis looked confused as Statics eyes softened and his voice sounded tired, "I don't care Hotstreak." Straightening with a grimace from the pain in his side, Static drew his disk higher out of speaking range. Hotstreak wasn't sure what bothered him more; the fact that Static was giving himself up to a beating if he showed up at school, or that he actually wanted to go.

The teachers and faculty were way too terrified of him to try to break of any fights he started and only interfered if he started getting out of control with the property damage by calling the police and keeping out of his path. By then Static would usually show up and keep him from burning down the entire damn building.

Hotstreak cursed and a wave of heat spread through his bones in anger as he started toward Dakota High. He wasn't taking Statics advice. He wasn't. He just felt like getting some overdue respect. What better way to stroke you ego than to have people cower in your shadow just by walking by.

---

Static didn't expect Hotstreak to listen to his advice and follow him to school, so he almost choked during lunch when he looked past Richie's head to see Hotstreak stroll through the doors and sit down at a table far away from everyone else. Richie looked concerned for his chocking friend before he realized what he was choking over. Pushing his glasses up on his nose, Richie muttered, "Hotstreak? What's he doing here?"

Drinking down the rest of his ounce or so of milk that came with his meal, Static muttered, "Dunno Rich. I didn't think he'd actually show." When Hotstreak met his gaze, face stuck in his usual glower, Static jerked his eyes and attention back to Richie. He'd told Hotstreak he didn't care if he decided to beat him up again after knowing who he was, because technically, it helped keep his cover. But through that, he was hoping the metahuman would just ignore him. Not just because his face still hurt from their brawl that morning, but because he was hoping that maybe Hotstreak just wouldn't want to.

He never understood why he'd always wanted to hit him before; he'd never done anything to him or gotten in his way. Granted, he did have a smart mouth, but only after he was harassed. Plus, if he drew attention to himself, usually Richie was kept out of it. He knew Richie knew he did it on purpose, and his friend let him get away with it because he knew that Static liked being able to protect people, no matter how small the favor.

Virgil tried to continue conversation with Richie, but he kept looking back at Hotstreak, whose gaze hadn't moved from the hero since he'd sat down. Virgil was uncomfortable under such intense scrutiny, but tried to play it off as nerves as he quized Richie on the probability of Mrs. Henrickson giving them homework.

Richie had several reasons for why she should want them tortured and he ended up predicting just how much time it might take them to finish it. Virgil was almost glad when lunch was over though, because now he could escape Hotstreak. He said goodbye to Richie since his class was on the far end of the school, and Virgil took one last glance around and saw that Hotstreak was no where to be found.

Walking halfway across the school, Static's hand was on the door when someone closed their hand on his shoulder too tightly to be friendly. Static whirled to find himself eye to eye with Hotstreak.

A quick glance told him they were alone in the hallway. Backing to the side so Virgil could maneuver if he had to, Static asked, "What?"

Hotstreak grabbed his arm and said, "Come on." Virgil yanked free and demanded, "Why should I go with you?"

Hotstreak rolled his eyes, "You might not give a crap about me, but what about your little friend."

"What?" Then realization dawned on him, "Richie?"

"Yeah, who else?"

Virgil's spine straightened and his muscles bunched as he followed after Hotstreak, "What's going on?!"

"Saw Marty cornering him with a couple of his punk ass flunkies and I went to find you."

Static was about to ask why Hotstreak had gone to find him to help if he could have just helped him himself when Hotstreak started, "I'd ave' done somthin' myself, but he's yer friend."

"So you would have helped him yourself?"

Hotstreak ignored the question and looked back at him, "I don't know of your some sort of masochist or what, but your going to fight them whether you want to or not."

Statics eyes widened as he hissed, "Hotstreak, I can't do that! What if people found out?!"

"They won't." he said sternly and then mumbled, " I'm tired of feelin all guilty over this shit."

Virgil's eyes widened when they rounded the outside of the school to see Richie on the ground while one of them kicked him in the stomach. Richie's face was bloody and he curled into the pain to protect himself. If he were Gear, he could have done something about their assault, but the boy wasn't as athletic as Virgil and without technology around, he wasn't a match for the assholes.

Virgil snarled and bunched his hands into fists, anger spreading like poison through his veins, "Hey! Lay off him!"

One of them laughed and kicked him again, "Or what?" It took all of his willpower to keep his powers under control.

Marty laughed with him, "No, this is better. I was getting bored with this pun anyways. Get him too!"

"What about Hotstreak boss?"

Hotstreak jept to the side, "This ain't my fight."

The flunkie accepted his answer and returned their focus to Virgil.

Virgil narrowed his eyes and as the two flunkies converged on him, he ducked low and punched him in the gut moving swiftly to kick him in the side, knocking him to the ground. Snarling, Virgil ground out, "I've had it with you assholes. You're scum and I'm dealing with you right now."

The one he'd knocked to the ground grunted, "Damn, I thought you said he was weak!"

Virgil caught the other flunkies sucker punch and twisted his arm at a vicious angle before drawing back and punching him in the nose and kneeing him in the stomach when he doubled over as blood gushed from his head.

Before the first one could regain his feet, Static kicked him back down and walked up to Marty, "Leave. Him. Alone."

Marty snarled, "Why should I listen to your punk ass!"

Static narrowed his eyes again before he responded, "Because this punk is about to beat the shit outta you. No one touches Richie." The bully punched at his face and Static caught the fist before it connected and pushed him back, forcing his back up against the wall with a rough shove. Marty growled, "When did you get so tall?"

Virgil threw him to the side and kicked him in the small of his back. He fell to his stomach with a grunt and Virgil rolled him over and kicked him in the spleen. Marty grunted and coughed, rolled to his side in pain. Static lifted his foot to kick him again when strong arms wrapped around his and pulled him back. Virgil screamed, "Let me go! I'm not done yet!"

He was surprised by Hotstreaks straining voice in his ear, "He is. Any more of this any you could kill him." Virgil was silent in his arms, but he hadn't relaxed so Hotstreak voiced, "Do you want that?"

Virgil went limp and grit, "No." Hotstreak let him go and Virgil went straight to Richie's side. Static let out one last scream of rage as he kicked the ground in childish fury, except there was murder in his eyes as sparks danced over his skin and latched on to objects around him in fizzing electricity. The boy was unconscious as Virgil dragged him to his feet, pulling his arm over his shoulder.

Hotstreak watched silently and then wondered out loud, "Why are you so angry?"

Static sighed, "Richie's the only friend I've ever had. I don't like it when the people I care about get hurt."

Hotstreak didn't tilted his head strangely to the hero's response. He watched as Virgil half dragged his best friend towards the infirmary. Hotstreak felt the urge to offer his help but his inner voice responded, "_Like he wants your help. You've been the cause of his pain for years, why should he accept help from you now._"

Feeling rather alone and miserable, Hotstreak left the moaning bullies lying on the ground and climbed up to the roof where he wouldn't have to interact with anyone else for the rest of the day. He was mistaken though, when a fully clad Static landed a few feet behind him. Instinctively his hackles rose in preparation of a fight. Taking better note of his surroundings, Hotstreak realized that school was far done by then.

Turning and standing to face the hero, Hotstreak noticed immediately that Static didn't look remotely ready for a fight. Relaxing a bit Hotstreak asked warily, "Yeah?"

Static's eyes were determined and dark, holding none of the mirth they usually held. He asked carefully, "Why did you help me?"

Hotstreak snapped, "I didn't do jack shit."

Static sighed, "You could have just let them have Richie, you didn't need to take me to him."

"I dunno, I just felt like it!"

Static made a noise deep in his throat and asked, "What did you mean when you said you didn't want to feel guilty."

Hotstreak was surprised to find himself not yelling his response, "It doesn't sit well with me knowing you can defend yourself but you don't. So I let you defend yourself, that's all."

Static nodded and stared at the ground before saying quietly, "Thank you."

Hotstreak whined, "Don't be thanking me an shit!"

Static met his eyes, "I mean it Francis, Thanks. For taking me to Richie and...for stopping me..."

Hotstreak wasn't prepared for the last part, "Stopping you?"

"I could have really hurt that guy, but you stopped me, so thanks." His voice was subdued and raw with emotion.

Hotstreak felt the last of his fight slip out of him, "Oh, we...don't mention it." Hotstreak turned and sat down with his back to the hero. When Static made no move to leave he mumbled, "Can't take that kind of shit back."

Static watched him with worry before asking, "Does this mean your not going to fight me anymore."

Hotstreak grumbled loudly, "We'll see!"

Static grinned and Hotstreak was surprised when the hero smacked him on the back, "That's the Hotstreak I know!"

Feeling slightly self-conscious, Hotstreak turned the discussion away from himself, "How's the kid?"

"Richie? He'll be okay. Cracked rib and a lot of bruising, but he's already back to his snarky self."

Hotstreak wasn't sure what to say to that so he muttered awkwardly, "I guess that's alright."

Static smiled, "I'll see ya then."

Jumping to his disk, the hero left his rival to his thoughts. Hotstreak watched him leave, the orange glow from the sunset making everything more vibrant than it should be. Crossing his arms, Hotstreak found that his loneliness wasn't so bad anymore. He could even smile...if he wanted to.

_I'll see ya_

Did that mean the hero wanted to see him again? Hotstreak frowned; why was he thinking about that anyways. He wasn't some girl that dwelled on conversation and interaction. It did make him feel a little warmer though. But this warmth had nothing to do with his powers.

* * *

** Now I can start getting into the good stuff ;) I really really want to keep them in character for as much as I can, but I do need to get some superhero fighting...ness out of the way too, but for them to progress in their relationship, I'm going to have to get some conversation going. C: I hope my action, when there is some, that it isn't really lame D: I'm trying.**

** Thanks to all of you who review and support me! What you think really matters C:**


	5. Distracted Heart

**Static watched with nervous unease** as Ebon fled into a portal he created at the back of an alley. Static hurled a condensed ball of lightning at the swirling darkness just as the metahuman closed off the portal causing sparks to dance harmlessly across brick and concrete, filtering into nothing. Static let out a snarl of frustration; if his mind hadn't wandered then Ebon wouldn't have escaped, but now his mood was skyrocketing from annoyed to downright unpleasant.

As he jumped to his board and rose above the buildings, Static felt his anger begin to evaporate into empty heartache. Static clenched his hands into fists and just hovered in place. This street in particular held painful memories, and the timing couldn't have been worse. Swallowing down a lump in his throat he jumped when he heard a familiar, but unexpected voice behind him, "What was _that_?"

He stiffened and spun in the air, only a few feet above the other metahuman. Grimacing at the allusion to the coming conversation, Static looked one last time at escape before feeling stupid and dropping down to the building below, collapsing his disk and putting it inside his jacket, "What was what?"

Hotstreak's frown wasn't so much a disapproving frown as a confused scowl. Static was surprised he could tell them apart, but he assumed it was the lack of vehemence in the others' voice that gave it away. "You know what I mean, you practically _let_ Ebon escape!"

Static jumped up to sit on the edge of the building and snorted, some anger still heavy in his chest, "I didn't_ let him_ escape!"

Hotstreak muttered, "Coulda fooled me, I've seen less distracted squirrels."

Static glared but was completely unprepared for what Hotstreak asked next, "So what's wrong?" Virgils' eyes widened and he stared for a moment while Hotstreak grew uncomfortable with the growing silence.

Virgil caught himself though and sighed, running a hand threw his hair as he looked down at the street behind him, pain shadowed in his eyes, "This is the street where they shot my mom. I've gotten past it but, it's just...this place."

Hotstreak hadn't been ready for that, and he couldn't exactly relate, seeing as he'd never really had anyone to begin with, "For what it's worth, I'm sorry...What happened?"

Static was quiet for a moment before he leaned forward on his knees and watched his hands, "She was a nurse, and during those really bad riots, she was called to the street. She was just helping..."

Hotstreaks eyes narrowed in sympathy and he leaned up against the building next to him and cleared his throat awkwardly, "What was she like?"

Static's mind drifted as he started in a whisper, "She was an amazing person. No matter how much wrong you did, she would forgive you and move on. She did so much for all of us, and you only just begin to notice how much when they're no longer there."

Hotstreak felt his heart clench as he murmured wistfully, "Must have been nice."

Static looked at him in question, an invitation to continue. He knew Hotstreak would shut down unless he backed off and let him continue at his own pace. This wasn't the first time Hotstreak had inexplicably found him on patrol and fallen into conversation with the hero.

"I wish I'd had a mom like that...or maybe just..." Hotstreak trailed off, uncomfortable with where he was leading the conversation and finished, "My mom was more the type that was never around, and when she was, I wished she wasn't. As soon as I turned fifteen, I left and never looked back. Sure, all those official papers for school have her address on it, but I haven't been back there in years, and I want to keep it that way."

Static thought about what to say, but just drew a blank. Finally he looked over to the pyrokinetic metahuman and let a sad smile slide into place, "I don't think it's my place to comment on that, but I will say that I think you could have turned out worse."

Hotstreak looked over, confusion written all over his face, "Uhh, thanks?"

Static smiled and whacked Hotstreak across the back, knocking the other forward enough that he had to catch himself, "Hey!"

Static turned to stand on the building edge and smiled back, "Thanks for listening."

Hotstreak fought for what emotion to fall back on as he awkwardly yelled, "Yeah, well just don't let your ass get handed to ya again!"

Static chuckled and left Francis alone on the rooftop. Hotstreak watched the electric hero go with a feeling of satisfaction and remorse welling up inside. He'd stopped to lying to himself a while ago; when the hero wasn't around he was lonely. He was the first person he'd even let know who he really was. Even when he was just a rival he'd been close, but now, he wasn't sure if he could call him a friend; The word didn't come easily to his lips.

Even so, he noticed that since he'd helped Virgil with Richie, the hero was no longer keeping his guard up in his presence. He felt at ease enough to relax around him and the thought that he was the cause of both the unease and then that acceptance was a different kind of thrill for Hotstreak.

---

A couple weeks after Jean's anniversary of her death, Richie sat in Statics' room, the light flickering between various stages of brightness according to the horror flick on the screen. Genius he was, Richie was working on blueprints and coding backpack and at the same time laughing and reacting to Statics' conversation and the movie. Static once wondered was his brain was like, and then promptly stopped when he realized if he kept trying to imagine it his brain would explode.

Richie swallowed a mouthful of popcorn as the alarm clock on V's nightstand flicked to 4:00 AM, "You've been taking longer on patrol lately."

Static choked on the popcorn he'd been trying to swallow and after hacking for a few seconds he had the insight to drink something. Gasping for air Static recoiled, "Not really, it's about the same as before."

Richie sighed and laid down his pencil, "V, two hours is a long time, what are you doing?"

Virgil was at a loss for words as he tried to come up with a feasible lie, but fooling a genius is tough. Eventually Richie pushed up his glasses and answered for him, "I know this involves Hotstreak, so why not fill me in?"

Eyes widening, Static sputtered, "But how did, when, I don't-"

"V! Please! I've known for a while now, I was just waiting to see if you'd tell me yourself. Speaking of that, why haven't you?"

Virgil fell back on the bed, "Sorry Rich, I just wasn't sure how to word it, you know?"

Richie sat cross-legged, seeming very much as ease with the conversation, like he already knew where if was headed, "You were afraid I'd take it the wrong way, seeing as Hotstreak would have gladly taken you out only a few months ago."

Virgil sighed, "I guess you do have everything figured out. Are you mad?"

Richie sighed, "V, do I sound mad?"

"Miffed."

"You could say that."

"I'm sorry, I should have told you." Virgil sat up and continued, "He's just been a lot more..."

"Docile."

"That word fits more than you know. Compared to what he was like before he's almost compliant."

Richie seemed genuinely surprised, "Wow, that _is_ different."

Static shrugged, "I guess I figured I'd give him a chance."

Richie rubbed his neck, 'This isn't an interrogation V, I just wanted you to know that I'm cool with whatever your doing. I trust you V."

"Thanks Rich, I must be a pretty lousy friend."

Richie snorted, "A lousy friend wouldn't make sure I don't get in over my head or make sure I don't kill myself."

Virgil grinned, "Sure man, whatever you say."

Richie stuffed a handful of popcorn in his mouth and turned back to the tv, "K, now zombies Virg, we can't forget about the zombies..."

Virgil chuckled, "I guess we can't." Both turned their full attention, devoid of the past silence on the movie, both laughing at different things. Richie though it was hilarious that the human capillary system wouldn't be able to support the extremities of the blah blah blah and Virgil just though the gore looked fake. Either way, they were happy.

----

Richie went through his room doing various things he did on routine before he went to sleep. Brushing his teeth, turning off the tv, setting his alarm, making sure backpack was programed, ect. But as he set his glasses on his nightstand and curled up to sleep safe in his home, the genius overlooked something. Something very important...

**Thanks to everyone that reviews! I really do listen and take your comments to heart ;) Next Chapter will be longer and better C: It'll be up in a couple days after this one. Now I can has PLOT lol **


	6. Whatever it Takes

**Static was on his way to school** when he noticed backpack weaving drunkenly across a wall in front of him before collapsing in a heap of sparks at his feet and Virgil's stomach plummeted. It dropped a flash drive at his feet and it's whirring came to a startling stop, the bright red light cracked and fading. Virgil felt his breathing speed up as he picked up the crumpled robot and the flash drive. Squeezing the drive in his hand Virgil dumped the robot unceremoniously into his backpack and took off to the school. It was closer than home now and this flash drive was important.

Panting as he flung open the doors to the school, Virgil dashed down the hallway, colliding with Hotstreak and sending them both to the floor. Hotstreak started to yell, but stopped himself when he saw the panic in Virgil's eyes. Pushing off of Hotstreak, Virgil didn't stop to look back as he tore into a computer lab and jammed the flash drive into the first computer he could reach. Without even having to prompt it, every computer screen in the room started to flicker before a code box appeared with just one word, repeated over and over and over.

ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA ALVA …....

Static started to back up slowly. Three words became his entire universe. _They got him_.

His shoulder ran into Hotstreak and the pyrokinetic muttered, "Aw shit."

Static felt his breathing level as an intense anger coiled inside him. Backing out of the lab, Static made his way to the entrance and left, his task the only thing on his mind. Hotstreak ran up behind him and grabbed him by the shoulder but the look the other gave him made him back away. Still, as the heartbroken hero made his way to the first hidden alley he could find, Hotstreak decided he would follow him to keep an eye on him so he wouldn't do anything exceedingly stupid. Virgil tore his costume out and jumped onto his disk and made a beeline straight to Alva Industries.

The last time his friend had been in danger he'd graciously taken his place, even to give up his own life. Hotstreak had help saved Alva's son along with Static and after that day, Alva industries had switched a lot of hands only to fall off the face of the planet. It still existed for scientific research, but that was all anyone knew. Now the name had resurfaced and it had something to do with Richie, or rather; Gear.

Static landed in front of the glass double doors and strolled casually inside and waited for an elevator. His boots were loud in the caverous waiting room and Hotstreak's shoe squeaked on the marble floor. The secretary at the desk was too busy on the computer patching someone through on the phone to notice Static and his murderous intent. The elevator light came on with a ding and Static stepped on and punched the B for basement. There was a stupid jazz melody being played through the ceiling speakers that made Hotstreak feel stupid as they prepared to "infiltrate" a government funded research facility.

The door popped open to a long blank, white corridor with a frosted glass door at the end. Static paced stiffly to the end and fried the card reader with a small bolt and swung the door open to a long ramp going down. At the end of a ramp was another longer corridor that ended and then turned right into another frosted door. After Static stepped through this door he stopped and placed a hand on the wall next to him. His senses told him there was a powerful energy source on his left and if his hypothesis was right then the more power you need to sustain a project, the more important it is.

They ended up in a tall ceilinged room with large complicated looking machines with people in white coats and clipboards all looking very official and important. Static's mouth turned up in a feral grin as he lifted his arms and blasted the hell out of the two machines closest to him. They overloaded and crashed in a small explosion of smoke, sparks still dancing over the surface and shocking the engineers, physicist and biologists standing too close. A few dropped what they were doing and ran while a few seemed determined to protect their projects.

At the moment Static could care less, raising his voice and shouting, "Who's in charge!"

No one moved for a moment, but as Static took a step closer, he intimidated a woman on his right as she pointed and screamed sharply, "It's him! He's in charge!" Then she turned and fled past her coworkers into the hallway behind them. Static watched her run in disgust and closed in on the man she'd singled out. The scientist's face paled and he backpedalled until his back ran up against a machine. Grimacing as Static closed in on him and balled up the front of his coat, and lifted him off the ground and back against the piping. Then man in his grasp winced and tried not to gasp, "What do you want?"

"You kidnapped Gear. Where is he!"

"I don't!-I don't know!"

Static curled his lips into a snarl as he slammed him against the metal, "Tell me!"

The scientist managed a weak, "No."

Static let him drop to the ground and then towered over him and dug his fingers into the side of his head, his expression edging on boredom and disgust rather than anger.

Tightening his grip on the man's skull, Static spoke gently, but it was laced with venom, "It would be easy; like _flipping_ a _switch_. All I have to do is drain the electricity from your brain and you die. Just like that."

The man was shaking as he gripped Static's wrist for support, "Y-You wou-wouldn't!"

Static snarled, "_Didn't_. Don't test me." The man squirmed but other wise remained silent. Static grit his teeth and roared, startling a cry and a whimper out of the man below him, "TELL ME WHERE HE IS!!"

The man let out a sob as Static's power started to spark and twist across his frame , a low hum from his electricity increasing to a dangerous buzz. The scientist panicked and shouted as one jolt danced particularly close to his ear, "Stop! STOP! I'll tell you, just let me go! Just let me go."

Static ungracefully let him fall to the ground and waited for his answer, hunched forward and ready to attack should the answer be something he didn't care for, "I-I don't know w-wh-where, but they t-t-ook him to Arizona."

Static leaned forward to grab him again as a threat, but the man recovered honestly, "That's it! That's all I know! Don't hurt me."

Static turned away from the scientist and barely made it across the room before he screamed in frustration and kicked a computer console, denting it and frying all the circuits with an uncontrolled burst of power. Sparks skittered across the surface even as he walked away.

Hotstreak remained silent during this entire exchange, but he could barely hide his surprise, confusion, and worry for the electric hero. He'd never seen such rage outside of himself. Static didn't bother to see if Hotstreak was behind him, he made for the exit at a determined, mechanical walk. His powers surged though the hallway overcharging the circuits and blowing some of the lights he walked under.

Static clenched and unclenched his fist slowly, methodically, in a way Francis could relate to. Blue-boy needed to vent, badly, or someone was going to get hurt. Normally he wouldn't have cared, but seeing this dramatic change in demeanor was...almost frightening. Static stepped outside the building and immediately jumped onto his disk, not waiting to see if Hotstreak was still following.

Hotstreak called on his powers and felt the familiar creeping of fire through his limbs as the heat inside of him let him rise off the ground and follow the hero. He held back cautiously watching Static. For one he didn't want him to attack him unnecessarily; he was positive that if Static was angry enough he could seriously hurt him or kill him.

Static led him to a junkyard and jumped from his disk before he was even close to the ground and landed in a crouch only to straighten and let a wave of energy crackle, charging the very air and conducting bolts between the discarded cars and junk. Hotstreak sucked in a breath and dodged a bolt that stung the ground where he'd been standing only seconds before and he shouted, "Static!" When the hero ignored him, Hotstreak chanced edging closer and tried again, "Virgil!"

Virgil whirled and drew in his power with startling ferocity, his pupils literally glowing with energy. Now that Hotstreak had his attention, he wasn't sure what to say, "Virgil, you gotta get a grip...s_oon_, or someone's not going to end up _hurt_, they're going to end up _dead_." Static reigned in the majority of his energy, but remained silent, his eyes narrow, as he considered if that really was such a bad thing. When Static started towards him, Hotstreak felt himself fall back into a defensive crouch, his instincts itching to call out his inner fire.

But for some reason, a fight was the last thing Hotstreak wanted, and he fought back the need to ignite and protect himself against all his better judgement. Apparently, this was the right thing to do, because Static looked him in the eye and then just walked past him, throwing himself down against the outer wall of the garage and sliding to the ground. Virgil sighed raggedly and leaned forward on his knees.

Hotstreak walked over and sat down in front of him, still cautious, but not unsympathetic. He cringed when Static asked quietly, "What do I do?"

Taking a deep breath Francis said simply, "You get him back; he's your friend right?"

Static groaned, "I have no idea where they took him!"

"So find him, then take him back."

"Alva is the government; how am I supposed to find all of that?"

"Because your not going to do it alone."

Hotstreak met his gaze evenly as Static snorted, "And whose going to help me?"

"I am."

Static opened his mouth to say something sarcastic, but when Hotstreaks' gaze didn't waver he asked, "You'd really help me? Why?"

Hotstreak's mouth stilted into a frown, "Why do you always act so surprised by that? Maybe I _want_ to help."

Static stood and Hotstreak joined him, folding his arms across his chest as Static pushed his hair back, "Thanks."

"You can thank me when we find him. So, where do we start?"

Static answered flatly, "Arizona."

Francis followed as Static made his way to the front of the run down garage and said, "Uh huh. I was thinking, specifically where?"

Static ground out, "I don't know yet. Hang on."

Hotstreak was quiet for a moment before he recalled something, "Hey! Aren't you friends with the Justice League?"

Static crossed his arms and said calmly, "They aren't an option."

"Why not?"

"Heroes or not, the Justice League operates under the influence of the law."

Hotstreak was silent for a second while he mulled over that, then he questioned, "Aaaannndd why is that a problem?"

Static met his gaze determinedly, "Because what I'm going to do doesn't fall under the law and I don't want the League getting in the way."

Hotstreak's eyes narrowed, "You mean cutting you out?"

Static's eyes flashed dangerously as he flexed his hand and his powers, and said, "I'm leaving tonight. The sooner I can find Richie...the better." Meeting Hotstreak's eyes sincerely he added, "You don't have to do this; you don't even know Richie."

Shrugging his shoulders and kicking scrap at his feet, Hotstreak mumbled, "_You_ know him, that's good enough for me." Hotstreak thought carefully, "_If it'll make you sane again..._" then voiced out loud, "I'm assuming you're going to say something to your dad and then go. What do you want me to do in the meantime?"

Static rolled his shoulders and jumped onto his disk, staring at nothing in particular as he said, "I'll be back in an hour, do what you need to."

Watching the hero rise higher, Hotstreak shivered, but not from the cold, as the hero took off across the sky and sat down on an abandoned tire to wait. Compared to all the hours passed alone in his life, one hour to save...a friend... was nothing.

----

Static didn't even bother changing out of his uniform as he made sure no one as around and literally crashed his family's dinner. His dad instantly stood up. Hand gripping the back of the chair as he sensed his sons mood, and guessing that his son showing up in full uniform was just as bad as he thought, "Virgil, what's wrong?"

Sharon and Adam also grew concerned and stood, side by side as Static clenched his hands and mumbled, heart steeled after his previous emotional outburst, "They took him dad; Richie."

Sharon gasped and Rubberband Man's eyebrows drew together as he asked, "Who did?"

Static answered in monotone, half turned toward the door as if it were a chore to stay engaged in the conversation, "Alva."

Everyone's composure slipped a fraction at the word and his father stepped into the living room where he was standing, followed by Sharon and Adam, as the other metahuman asked, "Are you sure?"

Static let a short, hysterical bark of laughter escape his throat, but his eyes were dark, "I'm positive."

His father asked cautiously, "What are you going to do about it?"

Static ground out as passively as possible, "I'm getting him back, one way, or another." Without bothering to end the conversation, Static spun on his heel to leave, but was caught by Rubberband Man's elongated arm, shrinking back to it's normal size as he stepped closer. Static glanced back but didn't turn to face him as his sister's fiance asked steadily, "Are you going to do something you'll regret?"

Static looked at the wall, "Probably."

"Let me come with you."

"No." Static's answer was firm and unyielding.

"Why not, I can fight, I can help!" Adam sounded desperate. He'd seen what Static had been capable of in anger, and it hadn't been pretty.

Stating a fact, Static answered, "I found help, and you _need_ to stay here; Someone has to watch the city while I'm gone."

Adam slowly relinquished his hold on Statics arm as his father said sternly, "Virgil, you can get help from the police, you can't fight an entire company on your own."

Static still wouldn't meet his eyes as he closed his eyes with a steadying sigh, "Pops, you know I can't do that. Richie needs help _now_. Alva could fight off media for long enough to get what they want with him and we'd _still_ never find him." He paused and then added, "They _know_ I'll be coming for him."

Sharon spoke up quietly from behind Adam, "Little bro...If you weren't going to listen to what we had to say, why did you come here?"

Virgil shrugged lightly, "So you would know where I was going..." he looked ready to say something else, but either didn't have the courage to say it, or though it wasn't necessary as he turned for the door and headed back into the night, catching himself on his disk on the first step out and leaving as grimly as he'd come. He just hoped that if Richie's parents got worried, his dad would tell them what was going on.

----

Hotstreak looked up, watching the hero descend until he was floating at rooftop level. Hotstreak jumped to his feet, letting the fire inside out as he rose to Static's level.

Static gestured to all of him and asked, "How long can you keep that up?"

Hotstreak blew out the air in his lungs in exasperation, "I dunno...a few hours?"

Static crossed his arms and lifted an eyebrow, "It's going to be a long 'few hours' then."

Sighing Hotstreak frowned, "So which way to Arizona? Is that...South from here?"

"Yes genius, and that way is south." Static jerked a thumb over his shoulder and started in the direction, letting Hotstreak follow behind.

The pair spent an exceptional amount of time re-routing around a bad storm front Static could sense and didn't want to get caught up in, but it was two days before they actually reached Arizona. Both were tired from sleeping on the ground and not much conversation was made past, "What do we eat and how do we get it?" They had both discovered that Hotstreak gave out faster in terms of powers on cloudy days and vice versa. When it rained, both of them were grounded, but lucky for them they only got stuck in a few scattered showers. Static had no trouble navigating, much to Hotstreaks surprise. Apparently the lightning hero was attuned to other electronic and magnetic signals, the most powerful being the earth itself, and he could inherently tell which was was north and south.

That particular skill came in handy more than once and Virgil was thankful to have his own personal flamethrower to start campfires with, but the rivals made it more or less in one piece and Virgil paid for a motel outside of a small town for them to spend the night. They didn't have much of a problem with people recognizing them; Hotstreak wasn't well known in this part of the United States and Static just had to take off his mask and jacket and goggles and he was just another guy. Granted, neither of them were dressed for a dinner party, but plenty good for buying a one nighter in a room with two single beds before they figured out where they were going.

Hotstreak fell back with an oomph on the tired mattress, his weight barely giving way against worn springs. Static mentally cringed at the state of it and then shrugged it off in his exhaustion, dully stating that he was going to shower. Hotstreak didn't bother to reply actual English, he just grunted and fell asleep to the rhythmic beating of the shower. He rolled over with his eyes to the light, waking him up to the sound of Static flipping through the pages of a phonebook.

The electric hero was wearing nothing but his boxers, unaware the Hotstreak was awake until he actually sat up and remarked, still dazed with sleep, "What happened to your clothes?"

Static didn't look up but replied distantly, "Washed em.' They stunk."

Hotstreak rubbed his eyes and swung his legs over the edge of the bed and let himself wake up before he stood and decided to take a shower as well. Stepping out of the shower, Hotstreak let the water on him just evaporate into steam rather than use a towel, and took the liberty of drying off the heros clothes as well as his own as he got dressed. He was surprised when he came out and Static was on the ground doing push ups...and still shirtless; rather adamantly too...the push-up part. He watched him for a moment, surprised at the muscle the other had managed to hide. After seeing him fight recently he wasn't surprised about that fact anymore anymore.

He fought to keep his eyes from unabashedly taking in the smooth curves of his shoulders, the reflective shine of sweat from exertion and he almost blushed at the reverence he was taking in the other hero's power. Throwing Static's uniform at him he said loudly, "I dried it off, but hey, it look like you're going to have to shower again." Static sat back and pulled his coat from his head and said, "Thanks, at least it's not on fire."

"Hey! I take offense to that."

Static laughed, "Sure thing Smoky."

"Don't call me Smoky!"

Static snorted but hopped back in the shower to rinse off the fine layer of sweat that shone on his body. Toweling off when he got out, Static replaced his shirt and his pants and entered the dark room to fall to his back against the bed. Hotstreak was just as exhausted as he was but had stayed awake if only to hear the game plan.

Hotstreak let out a long exhale and asked, lighting his palm aflame and watching his bones glow through his skin, but creating a nice night light for the room, "Now what hero?"

Static took a long shuddering breath and let his arm cover his eyes as he replayed the plan he'd worked up since they'd gotten to the motel, "Tomorrow, I research where Alva is located publicly as a research development firm and we start there and work our way up. Most likely they'll all be expecting us, but that won't matter after we hit the first place anyways cause then they'll know what we want and it'll be even harder to find him."

Hotstreak kept his eyes on the fire as he rolled the words around in his head, "That's a lot to handle for just two people."

"We're not two people, we're two metahumans."

Hotstreak let out a sadistic cackle reminiscent of the old days, "That's what I'm talkin' about!"

"At least I can continue to guarantee that enthusiasm won't fade in a fight."

"You bet your ass!"

Static let a small laugh escape him and he curled onto his side and passed out. Hotstreak mesmerized himself with the fire, content to watch the contours of his hand change the direction of the flame as it skirted from dark blue to bright gold. Eventually, he too found himself in the throes of sleep.

**Once again, thanks for reviews : I lurvs them much! Just so we're clear, both of them are 18 now, which I failed to mention in the previous dribbles I call writing lol**


	7. Infiltration

**Forgive me for the short chapter! I wanted to add more, but I don't really wanna keep you guys waiting too long :3 Makes me feels bad. I was a naughty writer and wrote stuff too far in the future to post right now D: as an added bonus, I named the chapters! Yay! :D Also, as I was reading back through my chapters I was noticing some rather stupid spelling errors D: sorry about that, I haven't had the time to edit yet and I'm sorry for the distraction; enjoy!**

Inflitration-

The thick metal door slammed shut hard enough to shake the ground and Static cursed, "Dammit!"

Hotstreak turned to the hero, "What?"

"These doors close as a fail safe, meaning I can't use my powers to open them back up."

Hotstreak raised an eyebrow, "So I guess this is where I come in?"

Hotstreak concentrated the fire in his arms and hands, gathering it around him before shoving it outward, a pillar of flame colliding with the metal doors. The concentration required to keep up a continuous stream of molten hot fire was difficult even for Hotstreak. The doors glowed red hot, the very air simmering with heat until the metal began to warp and twist inward, bending away from the fiery onslaught. Hunching his shoulders, face carved into a deep snarl, Hotstreak roared, sending a burst of concentrated fire at the door, melting the remaining width of the frame and turning the edges white hot.

Falling to one knee, Hotstreak panted, catching his breath as Static rested a hand on his shoulder, "Nice work. Let's go." Hotstreak rose, and the duo made their way through the remains of the three foot thick barricade. Metal was still dripping off the sides of the frame and the air around the destruction wobbled in the rising heat.

Static led the way down the corridor with purpose, scanning door plaques for any signs of technology. His concentration was broken however, when a team a well-armed security guards rounded the corner and leveled their weapons at the metahumans. Static looked unconcerned as he swung out an arm and raised a magnetized energy shield just as the team began firing. Hotstreak blurted the moment their weapons rang out, "Hey! Those ain't no tazers, those bastards are shootin' to kill!"

Static narrowed his eyes at the guards and flexed his shield wall, sending it rippling towards them like a wave. As it passed through them they jerked and spasmed as they fell to the ground. Stepping over the still writhing guards Static bothered to explain to Hotstreak, "_Just_ like a taser. They won't be getting up for a while."

"That's a pretty neat trick."

Static ignored the compliment and stated a simple fact, "We gotta find a computer."

As they passed by more rooms Hotstreak asked, "What about behind these doors?"

Static shook his head, "I don't sense a network. What I need is a networked computer so I can tap into the system and search all the computers at once."

Hotstreak was silent for a moment before he asked, "You can do that?"

"...Not as good as Richie, but yeah, it's just more difficult."

Eventually Static hissed, "_Yes,_" as he froze in front of a blank steel door. Seizing the door with his powers, Static ripped it out of it's frame, tossing it to the side like a discarded playing card. Stepping into the room Static jumped and yanked Hotstreak to the side with a fist in his shirt, throwing them both to the ground behind chest high electrical components just as a solid beam of light scarred the ground where they'd been standing seconds before. Smoke rose from the melting floor and both Static and Hotstreak took note of that fatal fact.

"They hell was that?" Hotstreak shouted

His question was answered by a snarl from the other side of their cover, "They warned us you'd be coming. Why don't you just _try_ using those electric powers here. You'd destroy every hard drive within a mile radius!"

Hotstreak sat with his back against their crude cover and asked, "Is he telling the truth."

Static's grim stare was enough and Hotstreak said, "Then I'll take him." Shifting onto a knee to spring from his cover Static caught his arm, "No. You'll need a distraction; just be careful about the hardware and try not to melt anything...well, anything that looks important."

Hotstreak waved a hand, "Yeah yeah, I got it. You ready."

"Ready as I'll ever be."

Hotstreak hissed, "Then go!"

Static took a deep breath than rolled from behind the cover and launched into a sprint around the room, as he straightened, just missing a laser blast fired right where he'd thrown himself from the cover. Static ran in a circle, simultaneously whipping out his saucer and filling it with energy. Using the disk like a mega battery, Static matched the power of the laser. Or hoped he did. Now if the shot connected he would have a semi-manageable shield.

As Static ran from cover to cover, Hotstreak did something he'd never really done before; he sneaked up on an opponent. Keeping just out of the scientist's line of sight, Hotstreak got as close as he dared and found what he was looking for. Lighting up, Hotstreak sent a concentrated blast from his palm at a control panel at the back of the robot, effectively melting any important circuits that could be used to fire, say, an extremely dangerous laser blast?

Now the scientist was watching Hotstreak, fear starting to show on his previously spiteful face. He jumped away from the controls, fully intending to run for his life, but also forgetting there wasn't one, but two metahumans in the room. He tripped over Static's outstretched foot, sprawling forward onto his face. Hotstreak walked over and jammed his foot down between his shoulder blades, the scientist letting out a weak uumpf.

Static looked over at him, "Watch him."

Hotstreak snorted in derision, "With pleasure." Feeling the scientist squirm underfoot, Hotstreak watched Static find the computer he wanted. Jamming a flash drive in the computer, Static hurriedly dragged over the files he needed. Tapping his foot impatiently as the loading bar moved sluggishly from 2% to 10% Static complained, "Even the gad guy's computers are shit."

Hotstreak felt the same impatient tug he felt when a heist carried on too long for comfort, "The hell's taking so long?"

Static snapped in frustration, "It's _loading_."

Hotstreak grit his teeth and took out some anger on the scientist beneath him, "What's it at?"

Static snipped sarcastically, "Does it matter? It's _still_ not done."

Knocking the scientist out so he could keep watch for the doorway, Hotstreak shouted back in anxiety, "Make it go faster!"

"I. Can't."

Hotstreak worried his lower lip as he leaned around the corner, cursing and pulling behind the frame when a bullet whizzed by his ear. Their footsteps growing louder, Hotstreak took a chance and shot fire blindly around the corner while he yelled, "Almost out of time here!" He heard a startled curse as he hoped they retreated to a safer distance.

Static was practically hopping from foot to foot, willing the damn machine to work faster. 89% 90% … Static pounded his fist on the machine and swore, flicking his eyes to the doorway Hotstreak was attempting to barricade.

When the guards started to become less impressed by his fire show, Hotstreak grit his teeth and flattened his palm on the metal, superheating it until it was glowing a shimmering red. He heard shouts of surprise as they backed up, no longer physically able to stand any closer. Keeping it up was tiresome though, and Hotstreak knew he only had few precious seconds left before he would have pull back.

Still keeping his ears strained on the men outside, he jumped when Static gripped his shoulder, "I got it; let's get out of here."

Hotstreak motioned his his head to the men in the corridor, "Hey, these guys ain't playin' around. Those are real bullets they're firing."

Static licked his lips and asked, "You sure?"

"What? Of course I'm sure." Hotstreak gave him a puzzled look before he realized what he was going to attempt to do. Jumping to his feet Hotstreak argued, "Don't chance it man, you've never done it before."

Static gave him a worried, crooked grin, "Needed to try it sometime right? Hold this." Static dropped the flash drive into his open palm and took a deep breath, "Just stay behind me."

Sparks coursing over his skin, Static concentrated and lifted a shield with Hotstreak inside, just a regular shield until he bothered to augment it, and stepped briskly into the open. Hotstreak kept behind him as Static acted fast, pouring out his energy into a nearly solid polarized shield. There were no longer sparks jumping from his hands while he focused, but thin bolts of lightning that could connect in a molten blue between the ceiling and the floor. If that wasn't enough, when they started shooting, it actually worked.

Static gasped at the force he needed to exert to stop the bullets, but once he stopped the first wave, bullets still hovering in the air, his face broke into a wild grin. That was the hard part, now he could really do some damage Hotstreak's eyes widened as the men stopped shooting, realizing the were just wasting their ammo, "You really did it."

Flicking his hand to the side, Static flung the bullets to embed themselves in the wall. To the naked eye, he'd dropped his shield, but to Static, he'd just concentrated usually wild electricity into a more subtle, powerful aura. The air around him was thick with magnetism, but the guards didn't know that. Still startled that he would drop his protection, they fired freely again, but this time Static was ready. Catching the bullets near his hand, Static turned their potential energy back on them, turning the bullets back on their owners.

Making sure to keep his hits non lethal, Static curled his hand into a fist and jerked his hand back when he was close enough, pulling the guns from their hands and sending them clattering across the floor. Satisfied that the moaning men on the ground were no longer a threat, both Hotstreak and Static broke into a run.

Only when they were back outside did Static drop the magnetism collected around his body. Sweat dripping down his face, Static almost collapsed from the amount of effort he'd put into his last ditch move. When Static's footsteps slowed, Hotstreak turned and grabbed his forearm, dragging the exhausted metahuman behind him.

Bullets turned the dust in their tracks and Hotstreak ignored the protest of his muscles when he turned around and grabbed Static's arm, only half conscious, as he pitched forward into Hotstreaks chest. Gasping for breath, Static didn't protest when the pyrokinetic hoisted him into his arms and shot from the ground with all the power he had left. He could hear the shouts and shots behind him, but knew that from this height in the dark there was no way the bullets could hit them with any accuracy.

Only flying far enough that he was sure they wouldn't follow, Hotstreak landed heavily in the desert, dropping Static before he too fell with his back to the ground with a heavy grunt. Static sucked in a fast, pained breath as sparks gathered around his body. Hotstreak forced himself to sit up and crouched near the other metahuman with his hand hovering over him, "You okay?"

Static arched his back and dug his fingers through the dirt, his face twisting in pain. When the wave of agony passed Static ordered desperately, "Back up back up back up."

Hotstreak knew that tone all too well as he scrambled back in the dirt just as Static rolled to his stomach and stood, shaking as he curled into himself with a scream. His eyes glowed blue with power and dangerous amounts of electricity gathered in his palms. Chest heaving, Static loosed the enormous amount of energy into the sky in one last powerful bolt. The scenery around him glowed blue as the energy struck the clouds, small flickers dancing in the atmosphere before fluttering out of existence.

Static fell to his hands and knees with heavy gasps, his arms shaking under his weight. Hotstreak forced his aching body into action and fell to his knees at his side, "What the hell was that?"

"Too much...electricity...stored inside...had...to get...rid of it."

Hotstreak sort of understood that and asked, "But you're okay now?"

Static just gave a tired nod as Hotstreak forced him to lie down. A small hysterical giggle rushed from his chest, "Let's not do that again."

Static's chest rose and fell with small choking laughs, "That hurts too..."

Hotstreak sat with his knees to his chest at Static's side and asked when the hero's breathing had evened out enough, "You're not going to be able to move for a while are you?"

Static practically mumbled as his body shut down, "I don't even want to _think_ about it."

Hotstreak gave his shoulder a squeeze before falling to his back with his hands behind his head, noticing for the first time that this god forsaken desert had a damn good view of the stars. Not nearly as exhausted as Static, but still just as spent, Hotstreak fell asleep long after he did, amazed that his friend Richie hadn't yet died of a heart attack if the headstrong hero always acted like this. Turning the flash drive over in his hand, Hotstreak pocketed the small drive and curled on his side to sleep, the yips of coyote's too far away to be a cause for concern.


	8. Please and Thank You

**Sorry there isn't fighting in this one; just couldn't be helped lol but there's some fun fluffs for Hotstreak C: Between Gen Rex and Static, those are the two stories I'm dividing my creativity and time to at the moment C:**

Please and Thank You -

Hotstreak woke up at sunrise, surprisingly enough, but he figured his choice of bedding was probably the result of that. Back muscles stiff and pained, Hotstreak was surprised to see Static sitting up, cross-legged next to him.

Stretching in a long yawn, Hotstreak ventured to ask, "How you feel?"

Static was letting his head rest in one hand, dark circles under his eyes as he mumbled, "Like I've been hit with a truck, and then hit with the guy _driving_ the truck."

Hotstreak snorted as he gave a feeble attempt to work out the kinks in his back, "In other words; fantastic."

Static sighed, "Yup, everything's just hunky dory." Shrugging carefully out of his coat, he commented, "Damn, it's still sunrise and it's already too hot."

Hotstreak couldn't hide a weathered grin, "Yeah, I'm not feelin' it."

Heaving another sigh, Static fell back on his coat and used it as a pillow, "Show off..."

Hotstreak still grinned, but seriousness crept into his brain as he realized that after Static had worn his body down so badly, he was in no shape for a trek in the desert. While he couldn't feel the effect of the heat and sun, he knew Static would be feeling it. He'd be feeling it a lot and if he wasn't careful, the other teen could end up much worse off than he was.

Hotstreak rocked forward and used his momentum to climb to his feet. His legs felt wobbly, but he would have to tough it up to get Static out of the rising heat. Once the sun was up, he'd get stronger, but Static would also get even more dehydrated, so either way one of them was going to lose.

Static accepted Hotstreak's extended hand and had to be drug to his feet. Pulling the hero's arm over his shoulders, Hotstreak kept him upright as Static struggled beside him. It was bright out before Hotstreak could even see the town through the strong heat waves. Virgil was almost unconscious again, his legs giving out on him every now and again as he fought his body to keep moving.

Static was barely aware of what was happening, but through sheer willpower kept himself moving his feet one after the other. His head felt like it was splitting open and the heat was only adding to his nausea. Eventually he really did pass out, unsure as his head spun how far away they were from getting out of the heat.

Waking up, Virgil groaned are reached for his head, realizing the ice was what was making him cold. His body still hurt, and the nausea and dizziness were still present, but he consoled himself that at least it wasn't hot anymore. Keeping his eyes shut from the intensity of the light, Virgil was surprised to hear Hotstreak sigh in relief.

"Holy shit, I thought you were dead." Hotstreak put a hand on his shoulder and said, panic lacing his voice, "After all the shit we caused, I couldn't get you to the hospital even though I'm pretty sure you really, really need it."

Virgil felt Hotstreak's arm on his back as he forced him to sit up. Virgil shuddered and opened his eyes as Hotstreak offered him a glass of water. Static reached for it, annoyed at how weak he felt, and ignoring his pounding head, downed all of it at once. Dropping his head in his hand, Static groaned, "Hurts..."

Hotstreak gave him another glass of water and some tylenol he'd shirked from the front office and waited until he'd drained that glass as well as swallow the pills before letting him lie down again. A new emotion had been stirring in his chest, and Hotstreak couldn't identify it, but watching the other metahuman in pain made him feel sad...and...something else, he just didn't understand it. It wasn't pity or guilt, but it made it hard for him to breathe as he watched the hero squirm in pain.

Trying to hide from these feelings, Hotstreak finally let himself feel his own pain and fell to the mattress of the other bed, which compared to rocks and dirt felt like a heavenly cloud. Both hero's slept the day away, Hotstreak waking up around sunset, at which time he checked up on Static before taking a shower.

Static was still asleep when he came out, but looked leagues better than he had before. Relieved that the hero wasn't seriously hurt, Hotstreak felt like a weight was being lifted from his shoulders. He chalked it up to the fact that the Earth's gravity was no longer a hazard to his health now that he could stand upright without feeling the need to be immediately horizontal.

When Static woke up, he was expecting a headache and nausea, but was pleasantly surprised when he found his headache diminished to a small stiffness in his neck and only the expected body aches. He was once again infinitely grateful for his body's ability to heal. He didn't bother stifling a long sigh before he sat up rubbing his shoulders. Hotstreak's head jerked up at his movement, eyes wide as he took in his condition, "How do you feel?"

Static looked to the pyrokinetic with a curt smile, "In comparison to before? Well I feel like I'm not dying anymore, which is a plus."

Hotstreak found his lips forming the words before he had a chance to think through what he was saying, "That was really close." In his head he added a desperate thought, '_Don't ever, ever, ever do that again..._'

Static dropped his head and felt compelled to apologize, "Sorry." After a moment of silence, Static swung his legs over the side of the bed and tested his weight on his legs. They held up, but not by much. Hotstreak jumped to his feet and gave him a serious look, "Are you really sure you should be getting up right now?"

Static brushed his concern away, "I feel awful and I'm sweaty and dusty. I'm showering. Now."

Hotstreak threw his hands up in defeat, "Sheesh, just askin'"

Just before Static passed him by, he paused and put a hand on his shoulder, eyes still on the floor, "Thanks again Hotstreak. I owe you for this."

Before Hotstreak could come up with an intelligent answer, Static was already gone and showering, leaving Hotstreak standing dumbstruck. By the time Static was back out, he was once again dressed in nothing but boxers as he fell back to the bed. His face pressed into the sheets his voice was muffled and barely recognizable, "Wuoff heui huu thhhaa ool ryyying inng rrrom effore?"

Hotstreak sat up in confusion, "What?"

Static turned his head and repeated himself, "Would you do that cool 'drying' thing from before?"

Hotstreak snorted, but stood up anyways, "What am I, the human tumble dryer?"

Static's shoulders shook before he rolled to his side and Francis realized he was laughing again. Doing what he asked, Francis tossed his clothes on Virgil's head before taking his place back on the bed. Arms behind his head, Hotstreak slyly took in Static's form. Neither of them had bothered with the lights when it had gotten dark, instead opting for the light of the moon shining through curtainless windows, which gave him soft, silvery contours of the ridges of his back.

Static either didn't notice the prying eyes or didn't care as he shook his head to shake the water out while running his hand through his dreads. Rolling his arm before replacing his shirt, Hotstreak watched his back muscles bunch as he lifted his shirt over his head, ebony skin contrasted against the white walls.

Catching himself becoming far too focused, Hotstreak rolled to his side with his back to the open room and let the hero redress in peace, content on letting his mind think of different things. But his mind was having none of it; the only thing on his mind was Static. Weather it was the way he demonstrated power, his loyalty or his smile, they just wouldn't get out of his head. Mouth curling into a snarl, Hotstreak was confused; he didn't want this attachment. He didn't need it.

Painfully aware of the other so close to him in the room, weather it be his breathing or movement as he shifted positions, Hotstreak was so aware of his presence it was like a chill running down his spine that made his neck tingle. Curling his arms tight over his middle, Hotstreak squeezed his eyes shut and tried to ignore it, but it seemed that he was failing at that more and more recently. Heart heavy and emotionally exhausted, it wasn't long before Hotstreak fell back asleep with only a couple of hours left until morning.

The next day they both woke up at relatively the same time, which was a little after noon. It was a mutual agreement that they should get out of the small town to find a decent computerto check the flash drive on, not to mention they were a little too close for comfort to the base they'd just raided.

Hotstreak tossed Static the flash drive and asked nonchalantly, "Can you use your powers?"

Static let the electricity he could store inside of him scatter around his fingertips, "Yeah, but I think I should take it easy for a little while and if I can't get airborne we're going to have to take the bus..."

Hotstreak crossed his arms, "I'm assuming that little trail off means you got no money left." Static's mouth tightened in a straight line in confirmation.

A snicker escaped Hotstreaks lips and he smirked, "Seriously? Why'd you bother bringing me along at all if not to _steal_ shit? It's not like I'm good company."

Static only seemed a little disgruntled with him as he trailed behind Hotstreak as he mulled around outside a building about a block from their hotel. Static folded his arms in front of his chest and asked, "What are you doing?"

"Findin' one I like, sheesh." Eyes scanning the lot Hotstreak made a tsk noise and muttered, "Stupid hick town with stupid hick cars..."

Rolling his eyes Static gestured to the cars, "Does it matter what it looks like? This is still wrong."

Hotstreak shook his head at him in mock pity, "Where's you manly pride? I wouldn't be caught dead in that!" Hotstreak pointed at a dust blue minivan with vehemence.

Static tried not to laugh as he threw his hands up, "Whatever, just hurry it up."

Hotstreak couldn't hold back a sneer, "Why? Afraid we'll get caught?"

Static gave him a flat stare, "No hothead, It's frikin' hot out here! Whatever you pick better have some damn air conditioning!"

Finally Hotstreak stopped in front of a semi sporty car of a model Static wouldn't have been able to name and the pyro sighed, "Guess this is gonna have to do."

Glancing at Static he gestured to the car, "Would you like to do the honors?"

Static frowned and placed his hand on the metal door and the locks clicked up from the inside. Walking around the car to the passengers side Hotstreak called out, "Woah woah woah, where do you think _you're_ going?"

Static gave him a pointed look and swung the car door open before dropping inside and closing it after him. Hotstreak shook his head and climbed in after him, "Do I need to hotwire it or can you turn it on with your powers?"

Static shrugged, "I probably could, but do you want me to risk frying the only brain this car's got?"

"Good point." Hotstreak leaned down and pulled a part of the plastic console off and fiddled with some wires before he heard the rumble of the engine start. He smiled, "There she goes."

Putting it in reverse Hotstreak screeched out of the parking space before turning out of the lot going well over thirty. Static caught himself before his head smacked into the front and snapped, "Do you _mind_?"

Hotstreak laughed, "Habit. I like to go fast."

"So I noticed flame-for-brain."

Before Hotstreak would have found the insult annoying, but now he almost enjoyed hearing him say it, "I missed that nickname."

"Pshh, just please try not to kill us; I'd rather not die in a _traffic accident_."

Hotstreak pulled onto the highway at an acceptable speed and protested, "Hey, I may have flunked my drivers test, but I'll have you know I'm a pretty good driver."

Static leaned back in the chair, his arms crossed with a genuine smile gracing his lips, "Didn't doubt it."

Hotstreak was ready to hear praise coming from him and couldn't keep his surprise out of his voice, "What-really?"

Static kept his eyes on the road and commented, "Not once did you crash the cars you'd stolen, and that's either the devil's luck or skill."

Hotstreak wasn't that ready to accept flattery and he seemed taken aback, "And ruin a perfectly good car? Nah man, those cars are a work of art. That would just be rude."

Static chuckled and cranked up the AC, "How very caring of you."

Hotstreak just scoffed, but held back a snide remark he didn't really feel like making. Not really sure he should be asking, he did it anyway, "How did you and Foley first meet?"

Hotstreak gauged his reaction from the corner of his eye and saw the hero's shoulders tighten before answering, "Ironically, defending him from you."

Hotstreak gulped and continued to keep his eyes on the road, "Uh sorry."

To his confusion, Static just shrugged, "Don't be. As far as I'm concerned you redeemed yourself for that a long time ago."

Francis shifted his hands uncomfortably on the wheel and was surprised when Static added, "Apology accepted by the way." Hotstreak couldn't stop the grin the spread across his face at the hero's approval, which for some reason, made him feel even more giddy than he felt stealing cars, but it was a pleasant, warm feeling. He decided he liked it; anything that felt that good couldn't be wrong, or so his rationale went. So until further notice, he decided that maybe acknowledging his feelings wasn't so bad.


	9. Against the Odds

**Whew, more Static. You know that overwhelmed feeling you get when you realize just how much you need to write to get from point A to point B and it feels overwhelmingly daunting? I'm drowning in it right now lol So I hope to God I'm not rushing in this story D: Patience is a virtue, right? Well, let me know what you think 3 You're reviews keep me going; I don't mind if it's just to mention the weather, it reminds me I'm not writing to no one C:**

**-Also, I'll have you know I rewrote this chapter twice cause I wanted to get it right D: I'm really nervous about it right now as it is cause I don't want to mess up. The first version seemed off so it was rewritten and taken a different direction D:**

Against the Odds-

It was early sunset by the time the duo made it to Phoenix, and about an hour before they got there, Hotstreak noticed the electric hero testing his powers in the seat next to him. He didn't comment and let the hero concentrate; he'd being doing the same thing if he were in his shoes.

They pulled in to a parking garage in the late afternoon, Static making sure he wasn't easily recognizable as his hero persona, and milled around downtown until they spotted an internet cafe. Static explained to Hotstreak that they really didn't want to be holding onto the data, and they would just need to sort through it to get what they wanted and then they would ditch the drive.

Jamming the flash drive into the laptop's side, Static opened the folder and started searching. From the intense look in Virgil's eyes, Hotstreak figured this was going to take a while and bothered to ask, trying his best not to sound whiney, "So how long's this going to take?"

Static didn't look up and shrugged, "Not sure, but judging from the size of this file, I'd say more than an hour."

Hotstreak tried not to audibly groan, but Static noticed his discontent anyway and offered, "I saw a bar on the corner, what do you say you hang out down there and I'll come find you. It's not like you can help here anyways."

Shoulder's lifting in excitement, Hotstreak grinned, "Yes!"

Static sighed, "Don't be so depressed about it."

Hotstreak didn't bother to hide his change of mood and moved past Static to the entrance, slapping his hand down on his shoulder and thrumming, "See you in a few then." Static's had to work to pretend to stay concentrated on the screen in front of him as Hotstreak's fingers idly trailed from his shoulder off his back. It was a short, casual gesture, and Virgil wasn't even sure if Hotstreak did it on purpose, but as the front door swung open, Static was still tense from the fiery trails his fingers had left on his shoulder. Resisting the urge to look out the window as he passed by, Static rolled his shoulder to relieve the feeling so he could concentrate on the task at hand.

Hotstreak swung into the bar in complete confidence and sat down right in front of the bar, content to sip the cold beer he'd just gotten as he relaxed. He had a fake ID sure, but most people didn't question his age when he walked into a bar anyway; he'd always looked older than he was.

Lazily leaning back in the chair, Hotstreak's eyes floated up towards the sports network on the plasma near the ceiling. He'd never been that enthralled in sports, but it was always amusing to him to watch other beat the crap out of each other. As the time ate away, Hotstreak found himself so engrossed in the sport on the screen ahead of him, along with the loud chatter of the people around him, that he didn't notice Static until he was sitting next to him.

Hotstreak turned in the chair until he could read his expression, "You find what you needed?"

Static frowned and licked his lips, "I got it, but it's gonna be difficult." Sighing Static picked up Hotstreaks beer and weighed it in his hands, unhappy with the amount in the bottle he set it back on the table as he waved the bartender over and ordered something stronger.

Hotstreak raised an eyebrow at the fake ID he flashed and commented dryly, "You didn't seem the type."

"All Richie; figured it would come in handy. Right now I'm thanking all the heavenly powers."

Static poured himself a shot and stared down into it and muttered, "Really difficult," before downing it in one gulp and moving on to another. After pouring the third, he left it and fell back in the chair. Hotstreak fumbled for words as he grilled, "Where is he?"

Static was feeling the effect of the alcohol as he rubbed his eyes, "He's in deep; they have him at Langley."

"I'm not fluent in 'smart' Static, fill me in."

Static let out a dramatic sigh as he met his eyes, "That would be the F.B.I."

Hotstreak felt his stomach plummet, "You're shitting me."

A hysterical laugh bubbled from his chest, as he muttered darkly, hand on the next shot, "I shit you not."

Watching Static down the burning alcohol, Hotstreak looked between the bottle and the hero before making up his mind and moving the bottle away from him, "Okay that's enough of that."

Watching him seriously Hotstreak asked, "What are you gonna do?"

"I don't know." Static's yes were slightly glazed as his gaze burned holes in the surface of the bar.

Finishing off his beer and paying off the bartender, Hotstreak dragged his friend away from the bar and intended on taking him back out to the street. Static didn't argue and followed after him like a lost puppy. Hotstreak let him lean up against the brick wall at the front of the bar and asked, "How much dough do we have?"

Static closed his eyes like he was trying to remember before giving up hand handing over his wallet. Hotstreak counted the bills and decided they had plenty for the time being, and at the moment, Static needed a moment alone in the privacy of a hotel room to pull himself together.

Hotstreak pushed the wallet back in his hand as the hero replaced it and the pyro was feeling the beginnings of annoyance as a rather beautiful african american girl, or woman, it was hard for him to tell these days, sauntered up to Static.

Looking him up and down, Hotstreak felt a rise of irritation at her interest in the electric hero, "Mmmm boy, you are fine." Smiling past her shining purple lipstick, she was all charm, "What's your name?"

Virgil fronted a smile and turned on the charm; charm and humor Hotstreak was beginning to notice was Virgil's sanctuary, "Virgil."

She stepped closer, the light drink in her hand a top off that she was out for a night of man shopping, "Hmm, I'm Raven."

Hotstreak decided to intervene as he positioned himself between Raven and Static, his voice was dripping with fake kindness, "That's nice, now Virgil is leaving."

Dragging Virgil away by his wrist Raven shot him a deadly glare and turned heel and left them both in a storm of female rejection. Glad they weren't staying in the bar anymore, Hotstreak let go of Virgil's arm and let him follow him to a nice little hidden hotel. Paying for their room and organizing the room key ect. Hotstreak only had to deal with a few strange looks before they got to their room.

Static looked emotionally spent, and the depressant running rampant in his system wasn't going to be solving any problems. Static almost tripped over the threshold of the room before catching himself and falling to the bed. Leaning forward on his knees Static slurred, "Thanks Hotstreak." The room held only one queen sized bed, but it was much nicer than the hotel they'd stayed at before and that fact alone had kept Hotstreak from spending double on a room with two beds. Not that it was his money anyway.

Francis lifted his arms in a shrug, "Don't mention it." Now that they were both alone and away from the sights and sounds of the city, Hotstreak realized just how hammered Virgil was. Sitting down next to him with his hands on the edge, Hotstreak ventured, "Hey man, you okay?"

Taking a shuddering sigh, Static mumbled, "mmfine." When he met Hotstreak's eyes, the pyrokinetic felt his stomach flip at the intensity of his gaze, his dark eyes glassy and haunted. Feeling intimidated, Hotstreak leaned back and tired to keep the uncertain wavering out of his voice, "Virgil?"

Virgil moved his gaze to his lips at the sound of his name and took a deep breath, hands clenching as the tension strengthened between the two metahumans. Francis felt like he was breathing through a straw and each breath was more difficult to take under his dark gaze. He couldn't discern the emotion in the other's eyes, and it made him uneasy.

Hotstreak was caught completely by surprise when Virgil curled a fist in his shirt and flung him flat to the bed, swinging one leg over his middle and moving the majority of his weight on top of him. Hotstreak was too stunned to move when the hero leaned down so his nose was next to his neck, his dreads falling over his shoulders to cover his face.

Hotstreak tensed, mind blank as he fought for control over his body, to move, to push him off, to do anything but just lay there. But his body seemed unresponsive for the moment as Static moved to look down into his eyes, hesitating before crushing his lips to Hotstreaks. Hotstreak curled his fingers in the comforter, his heart rate bordering on panic as he closed his eyes. Lips numbing under the contact with the electric metahuman, Hotstreak felt Static relax his hand on his chest, spreading his fingers from the crushing grip he'd had on his shirt to an open palm.

For some reason, that touch alone undid Hotstreak's paralysis and he was confused at the things he was feeling from Static. Concentrating, Hotstreak kept his body heat under strict control, careful that his flare in mood didn't cause him to accidently catch fire. His lips literally tingling from the contact, Hotstreak swallowed and mumbled flatly as Virgil broke the kiss with heavy pants, body still tense with shock, "You kissed me..."

Static straightened his arms on either side of Hotstreak's shoulders and answered simply, his voice still heavily slurred and coated in the scent of alcohol, "I wanted to." His eyebrows bunched in confusion as Static sprawled out on his chest. Hotstreak held his breath and stayed as still as he could, swallowing heavily at the comfortable weight on his chest.

Licking his lips, Hotstreak edged, "Uhh Virgil?"

Virgil made a noise and sat up, his nose inches from Hotstreak. The pyro was confused when the hero gave him a goofy smile, "You have pretty eyes."

Hotstreak worked up the courage to grip his shoulders, rolling him off of him and onto the bed next to him, "Okaaay, that's nice." Mumbling mostly to himself, "I don't think you know what you're doing."

Static didn't hear his comment and rested his arms over his stomach and kept looking up at the ceiling, his tone turning morose, "I'm going to fail."

Hotstreak was unprepared for how to deal with this side of Static much less his extreme mood changes; he was still recovering from the kiss; the kiss he would think about later. Propping himself up on his elbow he tried his best to go for sympathetic, "Woah, woah, that...that's not gonna happen. All we gotta do is go get the geek back, and everything's fine."

Static's voice was nearly inaudible as he whispered, "What if it's not?"

Hotstreak answered slowly, thinking out his response as he said it, "Just sleep it off, we'll deal with this tomorrow. You got me, and...everything will work out."

Static swallowed and took a shaky breath, "Kay."

By the time Hotstreak built up the courage to face him, he was already asleep. Smiling grimly, Hotstreak felt an anxious knot tie in his chest; He was not looking forward to morning. He was going to have to figure out which way was up if Static remembered what happened. He probably wouldn't, but he couldn't be so sure. Mentally kicking himself, he took note that the hero might be able to take a punch but he _couldn't_ hold his liqueur.

Turning the subject in his mind, Hotstreak realized that kiss had changed everything. All his subtle glances and brushes were because he'd been wanting that all along. Static was the one person he'd ever known who had every really understood him, and cared enough to get to know him for who he really was.

But that attraction he'd felt to the hero had only begun recently, an attraction he now knew to be far too real. And it shook him to his very core. Previously, he'd dealt with relationships by deflecting his feelings with anger or acting like they didn't exist.

His relationship with Aquamaria had been disastrous, he'd been so desperate to keep her close he'd taken away her one shot at happiness. Even though she'd found a way back to being human, he was still feeling guilt over the accident, if he could even call it that. He'd been too selfish to see anything other than what he wanted. Not that that aspect of his life had ever changed.

Now that Static was in the picture, he didn't want to screw up. He'd always screwed everything else up, and there was a flicker of hope that maybe he wouldn't screw this up. Even if Static wouldn't mention it outside of the influence of a drug, now he knew that the hero was at least a little attracted to him. That was information he could live with.

But for the time being, Hotstreak decided to deal with all this like all his problems previously; he put it on hold. Anxiety keeping him awake, Hotstreak had a difficult time falling asleep, the adrenaline rushing in his system far from wearing down. Eventually he must have passed out though because the next time he opened his eyes it was bright in the room.

Feeling worse for wear from his lack of peaceful sleep, Hotstreak immediately searched the room for his problem. Static was nowhere to be found in the room and a card key was missing from the dresser, so Hotstreak assumed he'd gone out briefly.

It was almost noon when Virgil slid the key and pushed open the door. He looked tired, but if he remembered their encounter last night, he was a brilliant actor. Nevertheless, Hotstreak ventured to ask, "Soo last night?"

Static frowned and took a long gulp of coffee before setting it down on the dresser, "I woke up to a strange room and a splitting headache, so I left to find aspirin. As far as I'm concerned there was no last night, but there was _definitely_ a morning." He didn't remember.

Hotstreak had to focus to keep his sigh of relief from being too obvious, but Static didn't notice his efforts. Handing him a bag Static explained in detail, "Tacos." He'd brought him back about 6 normal tacos with a side of chips for lunch and Hotstreak figured the hero had either skipped food or already eaten.

Hotstreak decimated their ranks, even eating the little cups of salsa as Static fell back to the mattress, eyebrows scrunched from his headache. When Hotstreak was done with his lunch he tossed the trash onto the dresser by the tv cause the wastebasket was at just the wrong angle for him to throw it and actually make it.

Hotstreak wasn't sure if he should bring up their future plans just yet, so he picked up his key and left for a walk, content to let Virgil nap away his hangover now that he was aided by aspirin.

Not sure if he was asleep or not, Hotstreak was mindful of how loud he was as he tugged the door shut behind him and started at a brisk pace to the lobby.

Walking always helped Hotstreak think, and he was in dire need of some soul searching. He'd already decided he wasn't going to screw this up, and the longer Hotstreak walked and the more time he had to think about it, he was beginning to see that if he was going to make this work, he was going to have to go against his instincts and wait. He'd always been impulsive, but he didn't think this situation called for it. He wasn't sure about how to go about any of this relationship business that was as foreign to him as astrophysics.

If he really wanted to be with Virgil, and from the positive things he felt around the other, he was pretty sure he did, then eh was going to have to let Virgil move first. Technically he already had, but Hotstreak wanted him to _know_ he'd made the first move. If Virgil had feelings for him, he would help him figure out what to do. Hotstreak had to hope that he would. All he could do now was hope and wait...and get Foley back, that was important too...without dying in the process.

**Sorry it was kinda short, but please review and let me know what you think; I take everyone's ideas and opinions into consideration! And this is where the speed of their relationship gets tricky D: I'm trying not to get too OOC D:**


	10. Swallow a Nightmare

**So I discovered recently that Richie was originally supposed to be gay, but because of the nature and the audience of the show they left that fact unspoken. Just thought it was an interesting thing to know XD But I'm sure many of you already knew that XD**

**I have fun sunset imagery lol I IS GOOD WRITER LAWLZ nah but I love imagery; that and conversations XD I wish I were better at remembering synonyms lol ALSO chapter is longer than usual cause I didn't want it to be short and I wanted to get stuff done lol But, if the pacing seems really off, let me know, as usual C:**

Swallow A Nightmare -

Static and Hotstreak stood on the streets of Phoenix, Static's doubt hidden behind his usual facade of sharp wit and calm, but Francis was beginning to notice the tension hidden deep in his shoulders, the way he would anxiously fiddle or fidget. Either his mask was beginning to crack or Francis just knew him better, but he suspected it was a gentle mixture of both.

"So, Virginia?" Both had slept well into the afternoon to begin with so the sun was already low in the sky, on the verge of late afternoon as traffic around them began to back up and become a chaotic river of cars.

Virgil let his head bob in a nod, "I've been thinking about how we can break in, and so far, I've got nothing."

Snapping his head toward the superhero, he snipped, "Nothing? So _what_ then?"

Virgil cast his eyes towards his in reassurance, "Calm down, I said _break_ in, not get in."

Hotstreak's mouth fell open in confusion, "Uhh."

"I have a plan, but I think to pull this off we're going to need to be a bit more discreet."

"So I don't get to break any skulls?" Hotstreak pouted.

Not able to resist a small grin, Virgil responded, "I never said that."

Pulling out a small pocket map, Virgil unfolded it and pointed to a spot on the state of Virginia, "This is where we need to be."

"Uhh and we're...here?" Hotstreak pointed to a spot at the northern tip or Arizona.

"Sadly no. More in the middle; we're going to need to get to the East coast and I don't know about you, but flying that far on my own is ridiculous."

Hotstreak shrugged, "I bet I could do it," though the full gusto of his voice didn't back his claim.

Eyes glittering in humor, Static couldn't keep his mouth from tilting into a crooked grin, "Pshh, you wish. That's the entire distance of the United States, we don't have that long."

Crossing his arms Hotstreak demanded, "So how do you propose we get there? Unless we steal it, I don't think we could even pay for one ticket to take us that far; let alone gas money."

Virgil grinned, his eyes full of mischief, "Who said we were paying for that ticket?"

Hotstreak laughed incredulously, "And how, mister hero, are you going to do that?"

Static's confidence didn't waver as he pointed up to an imaginary plane in the sky, "We hitch a ride."

Comprehending what he was telling him Hotstreak started, "We...hitch a ride." Putting his hands on his hips and looking up at the sky Hotstreak shook his head, "I feel like that ain't gonna happen."

Still grinning, Static started through the crowd to a delivery alley behind a strip mall, "I've done it before."

Hotstreak's eyes widened, "Wha-when?"

"Remember back when we first got our powers, that hot day in July? Your powers were amplified by the solar flare's and mine short circuited."

"Yeah I remember," He sniggered at a memory before asking, "How is that relevant to jacking a ride on a plane?"

"Well, before they short circuited, I was stuck in a power surge and I could barely control my powers. I ended up miles away from the city, so to get back before I was grounded, I hitched a ride on the wing on a jet. You'll be surprised how well magnetism works."

"How am I going to hang on then?"

Static looked over his shoulder as he walked, leaving the crowd behind as the meandered into a deserted delivery lane, "Seriously? Have you not been stuck to the ceiling waiting for the cops to come get you?"

Eyes narrowing a bit, Hotstreak grumbled, "Several times."

"That's essentially what I plan to do, only stronger. Tell me if you feel a tingle in your spine though."

"What why?"

Static stopped and made a face, "I don't want to force too much electricity into you; while it doesn't hurt me..."

Hotstreak frowned, "Hey! I don't wanna feel like I've gotten a bit too friendly with an electric socket."

Jumping on to his disk, Static lifted himself to the roof and jumped on top of an air conditioning unit, his boots lightly denting the metal of the humming favs. Hotstreak landing on the concrete roof after him, "I'll be careful, don't worry."

Keeping up the small talk, they waited until sunset before using the cover of the sun to make it into the air unnoticed. Static replaced the googles over his eyes and cruising in a low crouch, the electric metahuman led Hotstreak to the nearest plane headed east, his powers giving him a vague radar towards anything with a current. And he was lucky that he was so far away from the earth's constant magnetic hum, it only made finding the plane that much easier.

Getting themselves on the plane to piggyback was only complicated because the cruising speed of a commercial jet was just fast enough that hanging on was going to be tough. Eventually the two made it on, Static forming a wedge shaped force field to slow the intensity of the wind whipping at their clothes while Hotstreak made sure he had constant contact with Static so he wouldn't become un-magnetized. Normally being in contact with the superhero would have made him edgy, but several thousand feet over the ground he realized he didn't care.

While it was an awkward, unpleasant trip, it saved them hours of time as they split from the jet somewhere above Missouri. Both dropping altitude as quickly as possible without bursting their eardrums, they landed in the middle of farmlands that extended for miles and miles and miles in every direction.

Falling to his back in the long, sun burnt grass, Virgil sighed in exhaustion, jerkily yanking his goggles from his face, indents in his skin from where the plastic had rested under his eyes and on the bridge of his nose making him look like a raccoon.

Not as tired as Static, since he was essentially the only one using his powers, Hotstreak inquired, "You aren't cold from being in such cold air for so long?"

"No, when I'm at full power I stay warmer, longer. The current in my body acts like my own personal heater." Hearing that, Hotstreak thought he understood the implications of that, so he asked another question, "If you used up so much power in the sky, wouldn't that start making you cold?"

"Someone's using their brain today. Another reason I called it quits; I was getting too tired"

Hotstreak raised his shoulders a fraction and dropped them, "Yeah that makes sense," then added as an afterthought, "I could have warmed you up you know."

Static was surprisingly silent for a moment, the emotion in his eyes unclear as he stared at Hotstreak. Suddenly feeling stupid, Hotstreak babbled dumbly, "You know, fire powers..."

His bumbling breaking him out of his thoughts, Static shattered the tension with a grin, "Sorry I didn't ask."

Hotstreak swore there was an edge to his amused response, but then, he also figured he could have imagined it. Both decided on walking as far as they could until sunset so they could find shelter, or at the very least get out of the field. Static would have flown, but his legs were stiff and his limbs numb from overusing his powers again, so he voted for the stroll in the "meadow".

As the sun started to fall the light melted rapidly from an ambient yellow glow to a burst of brilliant orange, molten amber rippling in torrents in the grass around them, light enough to float dreamily in the breeze and just high enough to caress their fingertips with featherlight touches. In the bright twilight, the outline of a barn was just barely visible as a dark silhouette against the sun. Once they got close enough, it was apparent the barn had been burned out and abandoned, though maybe not in that order.

Deciding that it was sufficient and the walls weren't going to collapse in on them, both cleared the dead leaves from the center of the abandoned building leaving only clean dirt and built a fire, courtesy of Hotstreak. Feeling extra bold, Hotstreak sat down uncharacteristically close to Static, his exhaustion acting almost like a drug in his system as. Not close enough to touch, but close enough that Static felt the hair on his arms raise in tension as his spine tightened nervously.

By the time the fire was started, the sunset was a forgotten memory, the sky a saturated indigo, only a few scattered clouds blushing pink in the leftover rays from the sun. The stronger ambient light becoming the fire, Hotstreak found he was immensely interested in the way the flames highlighted the dips and curves in the muscles of Virgil's arms, his skin appearing softer than satin. Forcing his gaze back to the fire before he was caught or too tempted to touch, Hotstreak asked a question, "Can I ask you somethin'? Been bothering me for a while."

Static glanced in his direction, arms resting over his bent knees, "Go ahead."

"Why do you smile if you don't mean it?"

"What?"

Hotstreak frowned, "I just don't understand why you hide how you feel. I never really noticed before, but all that bravado, most of it wasn't real."

Static seemed ready to disagree, but then he closed his mouth and narrowed his eyes in thought. Hotstreak let him think, patient until he responded, "I guess...I don't want anyone to worry, and I figure I can solve my problems on my own. I figure if I don't take the situation as seriously as I should, it won't be as real and it won't bother me as much."

"What bothers you?"

Static closed his eyes briefly before opening them again, glassy as unwanted memories corroded his brain, "I know you're into some bad stuff sometimes, and I know you've seen some shit you'd probably like to forget, but sometimes I just don't think I'm up for this. I feel responsible for so many people; Gear included. I've seen people die, and it just eats me up. If I think too hard about it all, I'm going to lose it." Static covered his face his his hand as he rubbed his eyes, an unsteady breath a clear indicator that he wasn't alright.

Hotstreak wasn't sure why, but the hero's words bothered him. If his representation of the one person in his life that was good was just as fucked up as he was, who was he supposed to rely on? Without really meaning too, Hotstreak found his hand on Static's shoulder, a comforting weight for the hero that dragged him back to reality, "Do what you gotta, but don't end up like me. I just don't think at all," letting his hand fall from his shoulder Hotstreak fell to his back and crossed his hands behind his head, his voice raising in volume as his anger grew, "Nothing but adrenaline. Look where it's gotten me; prison, suspension, gangs. I'm a fucking idiot. Im not just ruining my life, I'm fucking up everyone else's cause of my stupid problems."

Static's voice was quiet, "Your problems aren't stupid. They mean something to you and that makes them important."

Hotstreak calmed down, the rise and fall of his chest slowing, "You know...you were the first person in my life to notice me for who I am."

Static swallowed and looked away, "I know you don't want my pity, but I'm sorry..."

Hotstreak snorted, "I don't know how you do it. You make yourself responsible for so many people...how can you live with that kind of guilt?"

Mouth tilting upwards in a dreamy grin, Static sighed, "I'm not. I haven't been doing so well lately, but to be honest, if you weren't around after Richie was kidnapped, I might have just...snapped. Things have been going downhill for a while now."

"I've noticed, well now that I think back, you've been...different? Slipping."

Static sighed heavily, "At first it was just wearing me down, but it's started turning into anger." Laughing nervously Static joked sadly, "Is this what you feel like all the time?"

Hotstreak chuckled weakly, "Probably."

Static tried to hold back hysterical laughter, but it slipped past, his head falling back in raucous laughter, Hotstreak joining him, his sniggers evolving to top Virgil's. Eventually Virgil gained enough control over himself to wheeze, "Well, we're fucked up."

Hotstreak let out one last bark of laughter in agreement then sighed, "Well if I'm beat from stressing out about getting killed in space, you must be half dead. Lets sleep and deal with food when we can see more than three feet in front of our face."

Static immediately fell to his back and curled on his side, "Sounds like a plan." He felt like every muscle in his body was straining, his head swimming with exhaustion so much that when he closed his eyes he felt like the ground was pulling him down with dizzying gravity. He was so tired he was asleep within minutes.

Hotstreak was too wound up to sleep and he once again found himself once again awake in his insomnia with the dying embers of the fire crackling under the cacophony of bugs screaming in the dark. Mind too alert for his body, Hotstreak let the fire die, turning his attention once again to the stars, his vision greedily soaking in the full moon to see enough to see a silhouette of Static sleeping in only his undershirt next to him.

Chewing his lower lip, Hotstreak rolled to his side and hissed quietly, "_Virgil_." The metahuman didn't even stir, his chest still rising and falling in the slow rhythm of a deep sleep. Reaching towards his back, Hotstreak let his hand hover so long his arm began to ache. His indecision clawing at his confidence, but he needed to touch him. He'd always been obsessed with the material, and he'd always needed to touch.

With a burst of courage, Hotstreak let his fingers close the distance between him and Virgil's earthy skin, slowly letting his palm press against the warmth of his back. Shivering as his hands traced the iron of his muscles, Hotstreak felt a sharp stab in his chest as his breath caught and he realized...he needed Virgil. He'd never needed anyone, and now, with just this small contact between them, Hotstreak realized he'd never known what feeling lonely was because he'd never been close enough to someone to miss them.

You can't miss what you don't have.

Now, with the metahuman at his side, he'd never felt more lonely. He wanted more of Virgil, he still felt like there was a wall between them. An anxious tension. It was something Hotstreak both hated and loved. It meant he finally had someone to care about, but he hated the pain it brought.

It could have just been a fluke when the hero had kissed him. What if he scared the hero away? What if the one person he cared about turned his back on him?

Drawing his hand back from Virgil, Hotstreak drifted into a restless sleep, keenly aware of the proximity of the superhero beside him.

Both metahumans crossed the rest of the distance to Virginia with ease, only having to hunt down their dinner once, which was more than enough for them. Static took his time, gradually increasing the amount of energy rushing through his system, Hotstreak doing the same. Sitting on a rooftop far enough away to not be detected by their surveillance, but close enough to see it, even in the dark, Static played with his powers. Blue sparks cast an eerie glow across the roof, Static's posture almost casual as he charged the metal in his palm

Hotstreak watched the metahuman levitate the steel ball as he said, "I'm gonna go charge up before we do this; what do you do to charge up?"

Hotstreak shrugged, "I can take the heat from the air; helps when it's drier out, but that's just common sense. Can't you do that same?"

Static shook his head, "If I don't have direct contact with the object I'm trying to drain, or if I'm not close enough to it and concentrating, then I could end up killing the people around me."

Hotstreak stared blankly and Virgil rolled his eyes, "I forgot you flunked biology. Everyone's brain is powered by electrical impulses in the brain, if I drain that... BOOM, dead."

"Oh"

Static stood up and pocketed the orb, "Yeah, oh." Throwing his disk out, Static landed on it with a clatter of his boots, "I know you're probably against this, but jump on. People in our city may disregard us, but I don't think these people will. Plus, I don't really want many people to know we're around and you're kinda stick out about as much as the sun at night."

Hotstreak crossed his ams, "We can walk."

"To the other end of the city tonight? I think not."

Static stared at him from where he hovered several inches above the ground as Hotstreak glared at the metal disk. He weighed his options in his head and concluded that he really didn't think they could walk that far in one night and was simultaneously thrilled that Static had upgraded his disk to a bigger model, "Okay." Narrowing his eyes, Hotstreak took Static's outstretched arm and hauled himself up onto the disk.

Spacing his legs far enough apart the Hotstreak could crouch by his feet, Hotstreak had to admit that it wasn't really all that bad, though his legs were cramping up after only five minutes of kneeling there.

Letting Hotstreak on the inside containing wall around the power plant, Hotstreak nearly face planted trying to catch himself on half asleep limbs. Static caught his upper arm before he could fall and jerked him back upright. Hotstreak let out a little curse and stepped as far back from the power conduct as he could. A loud, dangerous hum emitted from the metal structure, a prelude to the power surging through the coils.

Static took a deep breath and stretched his hands out, tendons showing beneath his skin as he bent into a crouch, hands out as he siphoned the energy from the machine lightning connecting in whitehot bolts of energy viciously snapping and seizing in the air like a writhing snake. Hotstreak watched, fascinated as Static controlled the element and tamed it as it fought unleash its chaos.

Watching the metahuman drain the lightning, Hotstreak felt a thrill of a adrenaline flood his veins in the anticipation of freeing his own untamable element. Unable to keep a grin from his face from the overflow of energy, Static cut off the flow of energy, literally glowing with energy until he calmed the river of power inside him. Straightening his coat, Static turned with a manic grin to match Hotstreak's, "You feelin it?"

Hotstreak clenched his fist, focusing the heat in his bones to ignite the air around his hand, coating his arms in fire, "Oh yeah, now we;re cookin! Let's go start some shit!"

Static 's smile only grew at his enthusiasm as he dragged Hotstreak back on to his disk so he could bring them closer to the Pentagon. Dropping Hotstreak on the ground in an alley not three blocks from the building, Static laid out the plan again to make sure Hotstreak understood. When they were both certain they understood the plan, Static led them to the back of the building and spread his hands, closing his eyes.

Hotstreak's eyes focused in on a flurry of sparks from the nearest security camera pointed out over the lawn and he could hear many more sizzle as their circuits fried, "They know we're here, now all we gotta do is leave them in the dark. _Let's go_!" Sprinting out across the lawn, Static knew they wouldn't be seen as he fell into the wall, reaching out with his powers until he felt the lines of faint energy running through the walls. Killing it with a simple drain of it's power, Static was certain no alarms could sound even after their next stunt, "Melt it; we only have second before they find us; I could only knock out a couple hundred feet of power."

Static kept his back to Hotstreak as the pyro lit up and rested his hands against the wall, drywall, support beams, all of it dripping as the heat destroyed its structure. Eyes literally aflame, Hotstreak stayed lit and stepped through the hole he'd burned in the wall. Static held his disk over his head to protect him from anymore melted metal the might drip onto him as he followed him through.

The second his boots touched the ground Static sucked in a quick intake of breath, Hotstreak kept moviing, both annoyed and thankful they'd melted into a storage room, "What?"

"This place goes underground," Static replaced the disk into his inner pocket and clarified, "I mean, much further than I would have thought; maybe...twenty floors down."

Hotstreak stopped and looked back at him as Static shorted out the rest of the cameras in the building, "So now what? Does the plan change?"

Static heard the sound of heavy feet approaching quickly on their left, "Umm, just a little; I still need to drain their generators, but to get to them we have to go down."

"How far down?"

"All the way."

Hotstreak snarled, "Dammit, that's going to take time we don't have! Cover me." Static backed up as far as he could and then threw out his strongest force shield, arms up and ready to defend the instant he saw a threat. Hotstreak flared up his powers and started working on melting through the floor. Granted it probably wouldn't have been so hard to get down there if they had known the layout, except that it was government property and places like the pentagon were just too important to NOT be a secret.

They made eventually made it to the bottom while Static fought off the soldiers that surrounded him, which was easier than he thought after he jammed all their communications and started sealing off the ceiling they were melting through with "scrap" metal and desks. They were essentially running blind and on word of mouth, so it was taking their security much longer to regroup than if they could receive orders through their comm links.

Feet clattering on to the bottom floor, static didn't bother sealing the ceiling and nudged Hotstreak in the right direction. With his foot so he wouldn't accidently catch himself on fire, the pyro was still running hot, fire crawling over his shoulders and upper arms. Hotstreak's breath was coming fast and short as Virgil charged his hands with electricity and threw all his weight into a right jab into a metal door. His powers bending the metal in on itself dramatically increased his success when he kicked the door in.

Still alone in the drab metal hallway, Virgil drained the generators, throwing the entire facility into darkness. The fire from Hotstreaks powers distorted and deepened the shadows around them as Static urged him forward, "Now we find Richie."

Hotstreak grumbled, one eye behind them to avoid ambush, "How does that work again? Now that these generators are dead, there's only one hotspot left in the entire building. There's no way Gear wouldn't have some type of tech left with him that can resist electro magnetic pulses."

Hotstreak was silent for a few seconds before blurting, "What?"

"He's this way."

"Why didn't you just say that?"

Static groaned, "How about we both shut up." Hotstreak couldn't hold back a snicker as Virgil led them down the winding hallways.

Hesitating briefly before touching the door, Virgil was surprised it wasn't locked. The doors slid open into the walls with a hiss and Virgil's breath caught in his chest to see Richie casually leaning forward on his knees in a roll away chair facing the door. His friend smiled and sat up, taking his glasses off enough to rub his eyes and replace them, "And here you are." The way he said it held the tone of someone who might have been expecting a party guest.

Hotstreak voiced what Static was thinking, albeit in a little more outrage, "You're fine?"

Richie let out a wistful sigh, he was dressed in a long sleeve navy blue shirt and ragged blue jeans lit only by the fire Hotstreak was still burning and the faint glow of a computer monitor behind him, "I told them you'd be here. I also told him his shitty security wasn't going to be enough to keep you out. What I wasn't sure about was if Hotstreak would be with you. I figured he'd tag along to break some skulls, but who would have thought he'd stick with you all the way."

Hotstreak snapped, "What about it?"

Richie narrowed his eyes in thought before ignoring him and addressing his friend, "Listen, I'm sorry I couldn't get a message to you Virg, but if there's one thing these military types are good at, its keeping people quiet."

Virgil took a long steadying breath, "Okay...then what's going on?"

Hotstreak let his flames lower in intensity until they were at a slow simmer over his shoulders; but the fire white blue with heat as Richie folded his hands to explain, "Well, right now I told the Captain to back off and I'd handle you-"

"You can do that?" Static's eyebrows were raised in surprise.

"Umm yeah, I assured him if he didn't he was going to publicly embarrass himself and get his ass kicked. I knew you'd go for the generators first. But back to what I was saying, the CIA has a problem, so of course their first logical conclusion was to kidnap me, which I'm still getting over." Mumbling in anger he added as a side thought, "They thought I wouldn't realize where I was, the pompous pricks." Then re-boarding his train of thought, he continued. "Anyways, they needed my intellect, and I decided it was in the best interest of our country to stay. I think your hero talk as started to rub off on me V."

Hotstreak glowered, "Well _you_ certainly like to listen to yourself talk."

Richie smiled sarcastically, "Thank you Hotstreak."

Virgil had significantly calmed down now that he could see his best friend was okay, or maybe it just hadn't hit him yet as he put on his game face, "What did they need you for?"

Richie held up a hand, "_That_, is still a little confusing." Spinning in his chair to face the monitor Richie commented idly, "I would have a clearer method to present this if the generators were still running, but this will be fine. I'm glad glad the surge didn't wipe the hard drive, it's a piece of shit to begin with even with my protectors in place."

Hotstreak grumbled, "Looks fine to me."

Fingers flying over the keyboard Richie let out a little snort of derision, "I'm surprised our country's still afloat if this is the best they've got, but, on another, lighter note, the CIA might be looking at a big problem. And all thanks to a man _I can't find_." His words melted into venom as he leaned back in his chair and stared down the monitor like it was a demon from hell. Static read over the files he'd pulled up; mostly headlines about mass suicides and serial killers, but there were a few about strange fires.

"He's certainly a headache, but he has a pattern, which to be honest, the pattern is that he _doesn't have one_." Richie rubbed his eyes with his forefinger and thumb and groaned with lack of sleep.

Virgil leaned over the back of his chair memorizing the incidents, "Then how do you know it's one guy?"

Richie's eyes grew dark as he hit a couple of keys, his voice low, "Good question, he has something of an ego." The image that pulled itself onscreen was a still from a video or surveillance camera of a tall caucasian man, about 6' 7'' but in his arms, despite the pixellated screen, the image was unmistakeable as the body of a young girl, a smudge of black across her throat on the black and white output melting into a stream of black ribbons from her hair to the ground. Richie played the video and as the man casually passed the camera he looked up, eyes connecting with whoever was watching he play. His eyes were blocked out by a superhero's mask, but he wore a common suit with his styled dark hair.

His teeth shone in a brilliant smile you wouldn't expect to see on a killer as his mouth formed the words, "And then there were six." Virgil saw Richie's knuckles turn white at the challenge and Hotstreak voice behind them, his words lacking the bluster he'd had before, "What did he say?"

Richie straightened his glasses, "_And then there were six_."

Hotstreak blurted, "Isn't this what the Justice Guild or whatever is for? What about Batman, isn't he the best detective in the world?"

Static looked back at Hotstreak briefly in agreement and back at Richie for a response who closed out of the window onscreen, "Well I contacted Batman and he said '_I'll look into it_' then hung up, but I've checked out Gotham and the Joker's escaped again, that and there's been a surge in crime, so I don't think he's putting all his resources into this, he has problems of his own. So I'm taking care of it...or, trying too more like."

Static straightened, "Well he told you there were six left, who was the girl?"

"The daughter of the vice president. The rest have been extremely influential people, but this girl was just to attract attention."

Hotstreak sneered, "That's sick."

Richie seemed partially surprised by his opinion and turned to look at him as the pyro defended himself, "Are you serious? I _do_ have morals."

Static turned his attention back to the matter at hand, "Well now what do we do?"

Richie crossed his arms, "Collective we, or you and Hotstreak?"

Hotstreak answered for him, "Both."

An expression of surprise still on has face, Richie answered, "Well, I told the Captain you wouldn't seriously injure anyone and I told him to stay away until we got the power back on if he knew what was good for him, though he probably won't listen. I also told him you'd be onboard for helping if you made it here. Though I never doubted it. So you're home free from the property damage considering it was pretty legitimate. My cameras were down so exactly how much damage did you do?" Richie's smile was genuine for the first time they'd seen him.

"Hotstreak melted through the floor and I disabled all their firepower and knocked a few heads."

Hotstreak was proud of himself for that, fire now completely out as Richie laughed, "I'm sure it's a lot more than that, but to be honest, that makes me feel better about the whole kidnapping thing." Face turning more serious he added, "Now that we've gotten all that checked off, I suggest you make your demands."

Static was genuinely confused, "You're losin me Rich."

Richie explained, voice a little too fast for comfort, "The ultimatum. You threaten to haul my ass outta here and impede their investigation _unless_ I get some freedom and you get in on the investigation."

Hotstreak jumped in, "What makes you think I want in on this mess?"

Richie laughed, "Are you serious?" Then ignoring him pulled out something similar to their old shock vox's, "I already told the Captain you'd contact him through this walkie talkie if you got to me. He knows nothing about the extent of your powers and he had no idea you'd be able to find me this quickly."

Static took it and stared at it a moment before slowing things down, "Woah woah, wait, this guy's a creep, but what could possibly draw the attention of the CIA?"

Spelling it out for him Richie made it simple, "They think he might go after the president, if he gets to number one on his list."

Eyes wide, Hotstreak commented, "Woah."

Virgil weighed his options for a moment, and then hit the button on the communicator, "Captain?"

A gravely voice on the other end responded almost immediately, "Who is this?"

"Static, I'm not the bad guy here and you have something I want."

The Captain followed his lead, certain where the conversation was headed, but followed protocol regardless, _"What do you want?"_

"Gear."

_"We need him."_

Static frowned, "You loosen the leash, and you get something in return; we'll help with your investigation."

"What makes you think you can offer any help?"

"Your just going to have to trust that I can."

There was static and then silence on the other end lasting more than a couple of minutes. Finally the Captain's voice came back over the speakers, "Since this is a delicate situation, I accept, but only if your accompanied by one of our own when you're in the field."

Static hissed, "Your men will slow us down."

"Final offer." The line went silent waiting for his response.

Hotstreak and Richie watched Virgil who was still debating weather or not he wanted to just smash his way back out dragging Richie with him.

"V."

Richie's voice broke him from his thoughts as he met his gaze before answering, "I accept."


	11. Breaking the Peace

**So guys, what do you enjoy better? V's point of view, Hotstreaks, or dyu wanna see more of Richie? I honesty love them all lol And I'm sorry for the late chapter, but I've been debating how much to post and I've been having a hard time work/school/life wise C: But I hope the length makes up for it C: I originally didn't intend for this story to go on so long, but uhh...whoops lol Also, I don't feel like I'm done with this chapter, but it's been long enough and I feel bad not updating it C: So here's this one, with a strange cutoff lol Annndddd a weird first person drabble from Gears POV that I felt fit pretty well.**

**Breaking the Peace**

Static immediately shorted out the bugs and cameras in the room when he filed in after Richie. Gear gave a short, grateful little nod at the gesture and sat down on the edge of the bed. Hotstreak was in his own room to give Richie and Virgil some time alone. Virgil flung his back roughly against the wall and slid to the ground hands lacing over the back of his neck. Richie watched him, eyes narrowed in sadness, "Talk to me V." Before he'd been kidnapped he'd noticed the hero cracking, but now it was almost like he was shattered.

"I don't even know myself anymore Richie."

Richie could hear the warnings in the logical part of his brain categorizing his friend's mental health and he shut them out, "What happened. I've been kidnapped before and I've _never_ seen you this bad."

Static sighed heavily, his voice shaking as he calmed his nerves, "I feel so numb Rich, when I first found out who kidnapped you I was so angry. If Hotstreak wasn't there I could have killed someone. It didn't happen...but I was close...so close. I'm scared."

Richie got up and sat down next to his friend, "Virgil, you've been my best friend for years and I love you like family, and you need to do what you need to. But you know I'm always here for you right?"

Virgil didn't bother to hide the tears as his mind screamed, '_What if you're not?' _Voice nearly a whisper Virgil looked down, "I don't think I could take it if I lost someone else close to me."

"And you do an amazing job making sure that doesn't happen." Richie paused and chose his words carefully, "But you can't save everyone V."

**…... Gear …...**

The Gears in my head were always turning. An endless rhythm in my brain that refused to leave me in peace. At first, the churning between my ears was nothing but a whisper, but it had gradually increased in pitch to become a hurricane, filling my every waking moment with thought process, knowledge and answers. Always with the answers.

There wasn't a question my brain would allow to sit unanswered. If I could solve it, I would, if I couldn't – well that hadn't happened yet.

I've always assumed I had some semblance of technopathy. When I was assisting Batman with a time travel device I left him stumped on more than one occasion. In fact, I was overtly aware of the caution he had for me. He'd caught me alone in the halls of the watchtower once, which I suspect was no coincidence, and asked me questions I would have rather left unanswered.

There was no use lying to him; he had years of experience and instinct that my knowledge could never topple or hope to match. He asked a simple question, "What's on your mind?"

No one had asked that in years; I let out a sarcastic bark of laughter and planted my feet, "On which plane of mind? I can think about more than five things at once, not including the planes I reserve for rationale of decision." I wasn't bragging, merely stating a fact.

My tone was the same as it had always been, but Batman based his trade on the way he dealt with people and he'd sensed something inherently 'off' about my flippant statement, "Are you alright?"

I'd stopped, removed my glasses and rubbed my eyes before replacing them, "It's getting more and more difficult to separate logic from empathy." Exhausting really.

He pressed, "What do you mean?"

I sighed and moved my hands to my pockets, "More often than not I'm finding myself mimicking sympathy for an opponent when quite honestly, I feel nothing. The logic in my brain is overruling my emotions."

This made me a threat. He took two paces in my direction and stared me down, "If you found yourself lacking sympathy when a man's life was on the line, then what?"

I met his gaze evenly, not a hint of hesitation in my voice, "That would depend on the practical outcome," his eyes narrowed and he looked on the verge of action as I finished, "but as it is, Virgil wouldn't see too kindly to that course of action, thus it will never happen...so long as he's still around." It was impossible to read the Dark knight standing before me; there was no doubt in my mind that in a fist fight, hell any fight, he would win. But in a battle of wits; he looked wary.

He was silent for a long time before he said, "If that ever happens, call me. I'm giving you a chance that you shouldn't have, but not for you, for Virgil. He cares about you."

I looked down, "I know."

"If it matters, I appreciate the honesty" It was hard to tell if he was being serious or sarcastic. But then, I don't think it really mattered. Even if I hadn't said anything, he would have noticed anyway. I was the smartest person on the planet, while not the greatest detective, and that was enough to put me at the top of his watch list. He of all people knew how effective knowledge could be.

Either way, Virgil wasn't going to find out. The intelligence in my head was practically a shout, there was so much to do...but I'd lied to Virgil. I hadn't called my parents to let them know I was okay, because it simply hadn't crossed my mind. The need to emotionally attach myself with those around me wasn't nearly as strong as it should have been, but all the convoluted psychological reasons for why I wanted to stop killers still remained. And as far into the future as I could see, which was really quite far, It wasn't going to be changing anytime soon.

…...

Hotstreak laid out flat folding his arms behind his head. For once he'd been caught and he wasn't behind bars. The criminal part of his mind considered his friendship with Virgil to be extremely beneficial for once, but now he was stuck under the surveillance of the man working a job he didn't necessarily want. The emotional part of him he was just beginning to discover was thrilled that Virgil was grouping him in the 'friends' category and was starting to enjoy doing what was right, at least by his standards, and his entire being wanted this killer dead.

Maybe this feeling was the part of Static he had never understood? The intense need to help someone you would never know. Realizing this, Hotstreak was beginning to see why the hero looked so lonely and detached. Maybe he was getting too worn down always giving and never getting anything back.

Sitting up enough to see Static open the door, the hero snapped his fingers, the electrical discharge frying any and all delicate circuitry in the room. Relaxing a bit more now that he knew he wasn't being watched, Hotstreak stared back up at the white ceiling and asked, "You cool with the geek?"

Static nodded and flung himself down on the bed parallel to Hotstreak's with a grumble, "There's always more to do." The CIA had decided that Static was the best guard dog the metahuman could have and made sure they were staying together. The next day they would get their field assignments and CIA partners.

"We'll be fine." Static knew Hotstreak hadn't been thinking ahead when he'd formulated that sentence and Hotstreak would never know how grateful he was that he'd used the word 'we'. Some of the anxiety leaving his chest, Static took a risk in telling him, positive he'd get a fist in the face but too tired to care, "I talked to the Captain; Captain Burns. I got him to clear your record if we're successful in catching this guy."

Hotstreak wasn't sure how to react to that information, "...What? What does that mean?"

"You know what it means Francis."

Hotstreak felt a small ripple of anger that Static hadn't even asked him if that's what he'd wanted to begin with and hissed, "That's not changing anything."

Static sighed and sat up taking the change of clothes the CIA had provided and headed into the restroom to shower, "Do what you want with it Hotstreak, all it is is some marks on paper."

It was a minute before Hotstreak could hear the drone of the shower and the silence around him helped to clear his head. Static hadn't actually done anything. He wasn't even implying that he should change his behavior, all he was doing was giving him a chance. Four months ago and he might have blown a gasket if Static had even hinted to influencing his life, let alone actually done it. But something inside of him had changed, and he knew he wasn't ever going back.

It wasn't even set in stone. First catch the guy, then deal with all the shit that follows. Good plan Francis.

Patting himself on the back for a 'logical conclusion well done' Hotstreak only felt a buzz of irritation by the time Static padded back into the room shaking the water from his hair. Pushing back his dreads with his hand, Hotstreak was once again struck with fascination for the rugged beauty he had. Years of fighting and being beaten had toned his muscles in a way that no gym ever could, and the tight black tee curved over his chest in a way Hotstreak knew didn't accurately show his strength.

Francis would have blushed if he could when Static caught him staring, "What?"

Turning pointedly away Hotstreak mumbled, "Nothin'"

Static beat down a grin and decided to lighten his mood, "The agents wanna know what we're made of, so they're having us spar with their faculty's personal trainer to make sure we have what it takes and they know what we've got."

Francis sneered, "Fucking insulting."

Static laughed, "Oh I agree, but at least we get to kick their asses and it's _legal_."

Face molding quickly from disgust to excitement Hotstreak's eyes held mischief, "I'd love to put those suits in their place."

"Speaking of all this, it's been a while since we fought, you up for some sparring tomorrow?"

Hotstreak intoned, "Oh hell yeah. I bet I can still kick your ass. No cheating either."

Static snorted, "Whatever hothead."

* * *

Static and Hotstreak were both sluggish and slow from the hellish time their alarm went off to walking down the hallway, crumpled piece of paper in hand as navigation to the gym. Not wanting to spare energy on speaking, both were silent even as they reached the gym. Only two other people were in the room when they got there, an older man lifting in the back, headphones jammed in his eyes, and one waiting on the far side, supposedly there for the same reason they were.

Both felt the same unnerving anxiety standing uncertain in an unfamiliar place, but neither would ever admit it. Minutes passed and two others showed up, both standing close enough to the stranger that they had to know him. Maybe not well, but they were grouped together nonetheless. They whispered amongst themselves, glancing in their direction a few times. All three were male and not much older than they were. All wore comfortable work out clothes.

About a minute after they were all assembled around the sparring mats, a middle aged man entered, his voice shattering the unbearable silence, "Good Morning! It's nice to see you all prompt and early. I like that." Folding his hands behind his back he nodded toward the duo, "Virgil and Francis yes?"

Francis snarled, "It's Hotstreak."

The greying man didn't miss a beat, "Virgil and Hotstreak, these three are Simon, Lenny, and Jordon." The one that had been there before them, Lenny, seemed particularly focused on Hotstreak, hair short and blonde, his eyes pale blue. Nodding to Simon, a tall Hispanic with dark focused eyes, he gestured at the mat, "If you would Simon...Virgil? I want you to go at it like this is for real, obviously no serious or lethal attacks will be tolerated."

Virgil took a deep breath and stepped onto the mat, flexing his hands as both fell into a defensive crouch. Static had to work to keep from instinctively flexing his powers, but it wasn't so difficult that it broke his concentration. A couple of years ago he would have haphazardly flung himself at his opponent, but now he had _experience_, and experience taught him to wait and watch. Plus, he knew nothing about this stranger, and this man might know everything about him.

Simon shifted his weight, a small warning before he flew into action. Whipping his fist in a fast arch toward his head, Static knocked the blow aside, taken by surprise by his sheer speed. He was as fast as he was.

Sliding his feet into a more secure crouch, Static began blocking and learning, eyes narrowed in concentration. By the tenth punch it clicked. His forearms numb from blocking, Static clenched his jaw and ducked his next jab, throwing Simon off balance, but only so slightly. Spinning his leg in a sideswipe, Simon skirted backwards from the assault and dodged, Virgil's window of opportunity closing.

Using his hands for support, Virgil recovered quickly from his failed attempt and dove, closing any breathing room Simon might have had. Simon threw his arms up to block what he thought was an uppercut, but was caught off guard as Virgil braced himself and slammed his head into his nose in a headbutt. Simon let out a pained yelp and stumbled back. Before he could fall Virgil gripped his arm and jerked, throwing Simon to the ground with him perched on his back, his arm at an uncomfortable angle between his shoulder blades.

The man in charge nodded, "Good, let him up." Virgil released his arm and stepped back, even holding out a hand to help. Simon hesitated, his nose dripping blood down to his chin, before he accepted, eyes unreadable as he wiped blood on his sleeve.

Virgil let his gaze wander to Hotstreak, breath coming faster than normal, and was mildly surprised the metahuman was so focused. But it helped to see a small triumphant grin on his face at his victory.

The man gave Simon an order, "Get cleaned up and be back." Addressing the final two he asked in a chipper tone, "Hotstreak, you're up; Who's next?"

The intense looking blonde stepped up, hand rubbing his neck as he nodded toward Hotstreak, "I'll have a piece'a you."

Hotstreak's signature grin streaked across his face, "Bring it bitch."

Lenny's only outward appearance of excitement for his sparring partner was a small tilt of his lips as he fell into a fighting stance. Hotstreak curled forward like a panther, his arms out at his sides palm up as he mocked, "Show me what you've got."

To Lenny it looked like Hotstreak was all talk and no action, his stance broken and full of openings, but Static had seen Hotstreak fight a thousand times before, and he noticed the tightness in his spine and the twitch of his fingers that proved he meant business. Hotstreak was probably one of the few loudmouths whose bite was occasionally worse than their bark.

Lenny wasn't nearly as loose, his style uniform and structured as a textbook example, but he still struck first. Lunging into a left jab, Hotstreak caught his punch and pulled him out of his stance. Lenny's breath hissed past his teeth as he maneuvered into a new position, falling into a right kick to his midsection.

Putting space between the attack, Hotstreak threw himself back at his opponent, but Lenny was quick and back on his feet prepared before Hotstreak could take the opening. Both exchanged furious blows, sacrificing speed for power.

Hotstreak took a hard right to the face and another to his midsection as he instinctively doubled over. Lenny took a step back, sure he was done. He took another, cautious step back as Hotstreak straightened, wiping blood dripping from his teeth with raucous laughter, "Is that it? I was nervous for a minute there, but if that's all you've got...I've got nothin' to worry about."

Eye twitching in anger, Lenny flew back into action, surprised when Hotstreak matched all his moves with ease. Catching him by the forearm Hotstreak grinned and yanked him into a sharp jab to his stomach. Wind knocked out of him, Lenny fell gasping, down for the count.

Turning around Hotstreak crossed his arms and returned to Static's side, "Guess that's that."

The man in charge looked down at his shoes for a moment and then nodded to Jordon, "You and Hawkings." Static watched the casual brunette take his stance and just wait. Unsure If he should attack first, Static waited a moment before throwing caution to the wind in lieu of something more exciting. Using the martial arts he'd learned from a teacher he'd been casually referenced to by Bruce, or rather Robin, Static took the offensive. Leaning heavily towards kicks and dodges, Static clearly had the upper hand, and Jordon was overwhelmed.

Hoping in vain he would get a better workout going all out, Static grew bored with the lack of challenge and swept his feet out from under him in a low kick and straightened, "Who do you have that's a challenge?"

The middle-aged man cracked an amused smile, "That is our best," As he spoke, Static's first opponent walked back to the mats, "But now I'd like to see you spar against Hotstreak."

Hotstreak chuckled, "About fucking time."

Static snorted and faced Hotstreak, the routine-ness of it all falling into place. This time Static struck first. Both flew at each other with lightning fast fury, neither landing a blow and neither leaving the other breathing room. But it wasn't long before Hotstreak's superior hand to hand experience started to win out over Virgil's speed.

Static fell back into the defensive, blocking and dodging with speed Hotstreak still couldn't match. Without their powers in a fist fight, Static knew he couldn't win, but his mouth tightened into a grim smile. He was loving it, and more than a little proud of himself for lasting as long as he was. Last time Hotstreak had overwhelmed him in under five minutes. Now they'd been going for a steady ten and he still wasn't gasping for air.

Their fight continued only shortly after Virgil began to lose his edge, Hotstreak moving in close to knock him off balance and send him to his back. Planting a foot on his chest and pinning him to the floor Hotstreak let out a bark of triumphant glee, "I win again!"

Panting Virgil relaxed into the matt and shrugged, "Sure Hotstreak, but give me full use of my resources and I _will_ beat you." Hotstreak's grin didn't leave his face as he helped him back up to his feet, the agent foreseeing their fights nodding in consideration, "Excellent display, though both of you are lacking in any proper form."

Static wiped sweat from his forehead and chuckled, "It's not like either of us had much in teachers," as a side note he mumbled, "though GL keeps promising me when I get into the League that he'll train me."

The man nodded and checked his watch, "For future reference, you can call me Agent 8, do what you will until noon while I process your evaluation. We'll meet back here at 12:03, sharp."

After Agent 8 left the room Hotstreak raised a brow, "On schedule much?"

Lenny was back leaning up against the wall, but his appraising stare hadn't changed since he'd entered the room, "He's a military man, they're all like that."

Static turned towards him, "So you're not military?"

Lenny lifted his shoulders in a shrug, "Nah, though most people say I'm uptight like em', I'm a civilian, same as you."

Static raised a brow, "Where from?"

The blonde laughed, "Wouldn't you love to know." Static frowned slightly as the young man stepped closer, "But I will say this, don't get discouraged only cause I know everything about _you_."

Hotstreak found himself side to side with Virgil, "Is that a threat?"

He grinned, "No. Just a fact." Turning, he added, "See ya after lunch."

The one who'd sparred against Static, Simon, turned to follow him but added lightly, "He's a arrogant ass, but really not that bad of a guy. Sorry about his behavior."

Hotstreak bared his teeth, "Don't apologize idiot." His words were sharp, but his tone was light enough than Simon smiled, trailing behind the cheerful blonde. Jordon kept to himself and left separately, eyes dark in frustration as he stared after his colleagues. He hunched his shoulders and ducked around the corner, his eyes tearing away at the last moment.

Static and Hotstreak had some difficulty finding someplace they could find food, and more than a little trouble making it back to the gym,but they managed to find their way back to the large, steel room and both were more than a little surprised they weren't late.

Agent 8 arrived a minute before his scheduled time and started speaking on the dot, "Simon and Lenny, you're both assigned; Jordon, you're getting reassigned to another group." Jordon frowned and stood, leaving the room before Agent 8 even finished speaking, but there was nothing in his posture to betray his thoughts. Lenny grinned, triumphant, and Static couldn't help but compare it to the flash, so sure of himself. Simon cracked a grin and folded his arms as Agent 8 continued, "I insist that you get to know each other well, that is before you're forced into combat or the field. I'd think everything would be a lot less stressful if you at least trusted each other as partners." That being said, he followed in Jordon's footsteps and left the four alone in the room.

Hotstreak shrugged, "I don't really care about either of you."

Static slapped his shoulder and finished the movement by crossing his arms, "At least _pretend_ you give a shit Hothead."

Francis rolled his eyes and eyed the door, desperate to leave and go do anything but this. Lenny's smile hadn't faded, his lips peeling back from his teeth in a knowing smirk, "That's right, aren't you even a bit curious about our powers?"

This spiked Hotstreak's attention, "Powers?"

"Psh did you think they would bother leaving regular humans with two metahumans? That _is_ what you call yourselves isn't it?"

Static shrugged, "Call us whatever you want; you already seem to know everything about us-"

"Which is creepy," Hotstreak interrupted.

"-How about you enlighten us about yourselves."

Lenny held up a palm, "I freeze stuff; naturally I was interested in you Hotstreak."

Simon spoke up before Lenny cut him off again, eyes darting to his partner as he did, "I have invisibility. But unless I was really trying to hurt someone or steal something, I don't see how useful it is. It's not like I can keep the enemy from hearing me."

Static mused, "You're a quiet fighter, it's just naturally in the way you move. No doubt you've never been caught while invisible."

Lenny smiled, "True, lightning rod."

Static frowned, "I'd pick a different nickname, but I guess we'll be seeing a lot of you from now on."

Lenny folded his arms over his chest, "I'd hope so, this is what they pay us for."

Hotstreak cocked a brow, "You get _paid_?" Glancing at Static he lifted a hand in a casual gesture, "You're gettn' jipped V."

"Gee thanks for the burst of motivation." Rolling his eyes as Hotstreak lost interest in the conversation and drifted away, Static turned as well, "I'll see you later then."

Their new partners left in another direction as the two metahumans struggled to find their room again in the convoluted mess the pentagon called a base. Absently, Static wondered if it was set up like this on purpose, but let the thought go as they came across their door.

Hotstreak hissed, "Finally, if I get lost again I'm going to melt a wall."

Down the hall, just around the next corner, Jordon leaned, eyes shadowed as his head and shoulders rested against the wall. He listened for the sound of the door closing, his eyes narrowing, his emotions somewhere between tumult and dark excitement. Reaching into his pocket his fingers found the indentions in the keyboard and spelled out a clear and simple sentence, the receiver unknown, an untraceable number, "_What doth the Lord require of thee..._"

Kicking off from the wall he turned back to the inner confines of the base, a new message lighting the screen, "_You will sow but you will not reap._"


End file.
